(1867-08-12) Prayers, Oils and Just a Little Bloodletting
Prayers, Oils and Just a Little Bloodletting
Summary: Sirrah visits Roseguard with some additional information about the ritual that may provide some help to Emilia and the Shadaow within her.
Date: 1867-08-12
Related: Emilia's little condition.
Emilia  Sirrah  

Study - Roseguard - Ironhold - Rivana
See scene.

It is not exactly unusual for the Archbishop Sirrah Lancella to arrive in Ironhold without much in the way of advance warning, and it would appear that this time is no different. As is often the case, after a brief meeting with the Viscountess and her husband…more a courtesy than anything else, she was given leave to use the Study of Roseguard Castle (as well as fine guest quarters) to conduct whatever business she needed to in Ironhold.

Perhaps not surprisingly, that business included sending a message for Emilia to meet with her as soon as she was able. It is there that she waits, devoid of servants or attendants, simply sipping from a cup of warm tea (even in the midst of summer) while idly perusing one of the modest collection of books here.

It is a pleasant summer afternoon in Iron March, with clear skies, gentle breezes, and a city that’s largely returned to normalcy after the public execution of a few of their vaunted Huntresses. The good news is that the people seem to have accepted it more or less in stride. Oh, there’s still the common lament of how any Huntresses could have fallen so low, but for the people’s part, none seem to be casting blame anywhere but on the perpetrators themselves.

As for the Huntresses themselves? The remainder seem more focused than ever, and while there’s still an undercurrent of tension, it doesn’t appear to be tension over Emilia’s leadership but rather the natural reaction to some of their sisters having been found traitor. A slight fraying to the bonds of trust and camaraderie that have defined them for so long. Hardly irreparable…but it will take some time. So the bottom line is: Emilia has been busy…but not abnormally so.

Healing would take time, for the Huntresses and Emilia. Though that shoulder had certainly healed more quickly than what could be expected of the Huntresses themselves. The former had done little to slow Emilia from trying to live up to all those words she had spouted. Busier for it certainly. And as well when a certain Tracano Princess had come to visit her and Adrienne.

It had not taken her long to conclude whatever training activity she had been midst when the message from Sirrah had reached her. A few moments had been taken to tidy up, more to so to not look and smell like a hound who had been rolling in a stagnant scum filled ditch. It had likely not been /that/ bad but after a conversation with that keenly nosed one, Emilia had perhaps been more cognizant of such things. Thus when Emilia arrives to the study, there is that glimmer of a shine to her skin from the recent refreshing as well as a fresh tunic and leggings worn.

A light knock to the door precedes her appearance, and as usual likely the only sound to give way to her arrival. “You were if wishing to of see me, Archbishop of Sirrah?” The honorifics used in the address in that usual turn of respect for the woman. Emilia easily seeing the door closed behind her. “I am of hoping we were of having a tea blend that was of to your liking.” They did probably have a selection of Sirrah’s favorites on hand, given the woman’s taste for tea. “And that I have not kept you of waiting for of long.”

“The One’s light shine upon you, Lady Emilia. It is good to see you.” A warm, throaty chuckle escapes from Sirrah, and she shakes her head, “I am a guest in the home your family rules, my dear one. If anything, I should be waiting on you.” She sips the tea once more and nods, “And yes, the tea is quite good, thank you. Shall I pour you a cup?” Sirrah’s smile, creased and worn with age, is still warm despite all she has seen. Emilia’s efforts to tidy up might amuse her if she knew of them, for Sirrah herself has likely both been and experienced far worse in her long career.

“I have not been waiting long, no.” She sets the book she was perusing aside, focusing her attention fully upon Emilia, “The last time we spoke, you wanted particulars of the Exorcism ritual. After considerable research…I have them for you.”

“It is of good to see you as well.” Emilia meeting that warm chuckle with one of her corner tugging smiles, the movement perhaps lasting a moment or two, almost long enough to threaten the existence of an actual smile. “Of perhaps, but you are of an honored guest. It is being of a matter of manners in of a way to not keep you of waiting.” As had been the effort to tidy up, even if Emilia knew Sirrah was one of the last ones who would have been put off if she had not. A dip of her head comes at the offer of tea,”Of aye, if you would not of mind.” Moving in that ethereal way of hers to the chair near Sirrah’s and settling to it.

The new that there are now details about the ritual does have Emilia’s mien settling once more to that rather stoic edge. “Of aye, you said there was much you needed to of research and consultations you wished to make before being of able to provide of details of it. What does it of entail, this Exorcism.” Her own dark gaze settling upon the elder woman. A brief hint of tightening occurring at the corners of her eyes before she asks,”And what of chance is there for it to be succeeding?” A lingering memory about the Bane Sidhe singers, the Si’eh’ren, rising amongst a few choice words from Them.

Sirrah pours the cup of tea, carefully setting the pot aside as she slides the cup and saucer towards Emilia. “The ritual itself is fairly simple, though it can be lengthy depending on circumstance. You will have to be bound or held, lest the creature within take hold during the ritual…which is apparently not uncommon when dark forces within a person feel they are losing their grip.” Sirrah notes, as though she were discussing the weather, though there is an earnest edge to her gaze that puts the lie to the casual tone. “You will be anointed with holy oils and water, and prayers will be spoken, in a repeating cycle. From what I have gathered from conversations with your Lon, any faith can perform an exorcism…both the worshippers of the Many and the Brodlundian Gods seem to have variations of the same ritual, which all seem to share a relative level of success.” Sirrah shakes her head, “There will be a bit of bloodletting…specifically from the mark you bear. This is to allow an avenue for that which lies within you to escape. It will be a somewhat deep cut that may well leave a scar.” A tight smile touches the corners of Sirrah’s lips, “But somehow I do not think you would be too troubled by a scar.”

Sirrah pauses a moment, “As for how successful it may be…I truly cannot say. The records I have delved and Lon’s somewhat dim memories of such rituals lead me to believe that while they were successful more often than they failed, there were times that the failures resulted in the death of the possessed, the death of the exorcist, or both. Though it is unclear if this was simply due to the ritual failing or the ritual being performed incorrectly somehow or…some other factor.” Sirrah frowns a touch, “To be truthful, my suspicion is that the strength of the Exorcist’s faith may well play a part in determining the outcome.”

Another sip of tea is taken, and Sirrah falls silent, though the gaze she directs towards Emilia speaks of being open to further questions, and expecting the youngest Cassomir likely has them.

Emilia reaches for the saucer and cup to finish sliding it over, fingers lightly curling to lift the cup. As she listens, Emilia takes a few sips of the tea in a leisurely fashion. The the casual observer, it probably did look like it was mundane chat over tea. But those dark eyes were watching Sirrah with a flicker of intensity that spoke of the true focus she was giving to each word spoken by the Archbishop. Maybe just a flickering oddness coming to her gaze when Lon is referred to her as 'her Lon'. Murmuring softly,"Such of a simple of thing, a little of oils, some of prayers and a bit of blood given. And yet it is not so of simple in of practice." Lowering the cup back to the saucer as she continues to mull over what has been spoken.

"Given of mine….unique of circumstance, I of imagine things will not be of short in of time. And it of a given that They will gain of hold at some of point. Likely of best in of binding, I of doubt any other than perhaps of Lon would have chance to of keep hold upon of me at such of time." Emilia making the comments as easily as if she were discusses the plans for the next day or mundane day trip. "You are of right, I have born Her of scar for so of long another that mars of it will not trouble of me. But if such cut is not made with of care and goes to of deep, it will be of my death and more than of a little of bloodletting." As the mark did rest over her heart, a thing Sirrah was well aware of.

"Faith is of being of key? Much as it is of key in keeping of Her bound within of the iron of circle?" Her eyes drift from Sirrah as thoughts are turned over, and They make Their own interjections as that mild tightness at the corners of her eyes may hint to. "But they did of fail. I remember when Lon and I of met, he spoke of the Si’eh’ren and the of way their songs would of compel one to the Bane Sidhe. And his of thought that it was of similar to what She did of to me. That there were of attempts to undo of such songs, to of different of ends. I of suspect the methods were of perhaps of similar." Or that the Exorcism evolved from those first methods and rituals.

"If," there was a certain weight put into that one word,"I were to be deciding this was of a ritual I wished to pursue. What would be of required to of prepare for it? Where would it be of done?" Knowing to well that it could not be done just anywhere, if only because of the….sounds…that would likely come. "Who would be of performing of the ritual? Just of one or would there be of others to of assist?" Oh yes, there were questions. And there likely some hint of irony to be had in Emilia questioning Sirrah for once. "Where is of It to be escaping of to if It is of forced from of me? Does of the ritual of account for of this, something to of contain It yet within?"

“What is of success in of the end? That I am without my beast and yet of alive? What if I am but of a shell in of the end? Has any of your research spoken of what may of result beyond of the risk to of death, of what I may of be in the end? Of what will actually be left of me.” The tea is taken up again, Emilia’s eyes closing as she takes a sip. It might even look like she is savouring the flavour of the tea, if it were not for the wince and the measured breaths taken as she puts to work some of the techniques that Lon has been teaching her. The cup is lowered to the saucer during one of the breathes, her eyes opening as the cup is placed soundlessly upon it. “The Shadow of ElK'a'athren,” had Jaren relayed that name to Sirrah even,” is being no simple of dark of force. It has much to be of proving and promises of much…none of which is being of pleasant, should I be taking of this path.” Offering something of explanation on what perhaps drove some of her later questions.

“Yes, I agree it is not likely to be easy.” Sirrah assents, listening to Emilia’s questions intently before starting to answer them one-by-one. “Very little is needed in the way of formal preparation. Some warding circles placed and the proper supplies kept at hand. As for where…likely in the old Castle. That may sound dangerous, but I suspect that after a fashion it will make matters easier…if your shadow-self is able to retreat deeply within you, it may be harder to remove. If it bubbles near the surface…well…easier to snatch a fish from shallow waters, even if still difficult.”

Sirrah sips her tea once more, “I will perform the ritual myself, and there will likely be others present to assist. Likely at least one of your siblings. Sir Destrian. A few others.” She sets the teacup down, pushing the saucer and cup aside for the moment, “As for where it goes…My research points towards it returning whence it came…back to the Banshee.”

Sirrah frowns a touch at Emilia’s last real question, shaking her head slightly, though clearly not in lack of knowledge, “From what I have gathered, in most cases where the ritual was properly applied, the possessed lived a normal life afterwards. In some cases, however, they did not survive, or the cure simply failed. In a rare few cases, they were left a…shell. Free of their curse but…withdrawn within themselves, barely reacting to the world around them. In some of those cases, they eventually recovered to varying degrees…but some never did.” Sirrah notes, “So there is risk, yes. No doubt of that. But such is near always the case when dealing with things beyond the natural world.”

A small sip of tea is taken as Emilia does listen in turn to what answers Sirrah provides to her questions. To all the world, it really did likely look like a young woman and the grandmotherly Archbishop idly catching up over tea. "It does not sound so of dangerous to of me, but then I am not of discomforted to be within of the ruins like of most. I find of peace of there where others…" There is a small turn of her hand and flutter of her fingers, figuring she did not need to explain what others found there. It was a thing Sirrah would know better than her, the feelings and disquiet most normal folk did feel. "But it sounds as of well that I would have need to cease my fight with of Them, to not try to keep Them within of check and pressed of away like is of normal." Certainly reason enough to have her secured. “But to be of allowing of Them to be at of the surface to be of snatches like of a fish. To do of this would not be of if They would take of control but of when. “ She knew her Beast well enough, any opening They were given would be taken.

Emilia’s hand drifting to settle within her lap as the specifics of the ritual continued to of discussed. “I of admit, I would not be of….eager…for mine-sibling to watch me of endure what could come,” and potentially die,” but I of know they have both always wished to do what they of could for me. If I decide to do of this, I would leave that to of them.” A flicker of a frown comes, in the way of thought,”There may be of another who would wish to be of present…but that is of a matter to worry of if the time of comes.” Unsurprisingly, there is a continued tightness at the corners of Emilia’s eyes as the matter is discussed. They did have some fairly strong…opinions on the matter.

“Of aye, there is seeming much of risk to of it. Torment is of a certainty, but of the result to come? Of death or something of worse then of death being as of potential that are of likely as to be of released.” She pauses slightly as her gaze shifts slightly,”The risk is not just of mine, even if perhaps mine is being of the greater of one. In being of the one who is this Exorcist, there is of risk to you as of well should things not be of going well. Why take such of a risk of yourself when you are being of needed for more of important matters?” Like the unrest that swirled about and through the Church.

“What if by of the time I find of myself willing to take such of risks to do of this,” for even if some turns on the topic are spoken in the vein of planning, Emilia does not seem eager to actually move forward with it all,” there is no longer of being of a Banshee for Them to go back of to? What of Jaren is finding what is of needed to kill of Her as the Queen has of ordered? Would They just go to someone of else then or would things be of assured to of fail?”

“From what I understand of the ritual, whether you fought them or not, it would make little difference as to whether they emerge,” Sirrah notes, “But it might speed the process along, and shorten whatever discomfort you might be feeling.” Sirrah nods, “And yes, your siblings are likely to be rather insistent on the matter. They are nothing if not determined.”

The Archbishop shakes her head, “I did not say the darker outcomes were “as” likely. I said such things occurred some of the time, based on the records I’ve found. If this were a toss of a coin in terms of whether it seems likely to be successful or not, I would not be suggesting it to you.” Sirrah fixes Emilia with a hard gaze at the latter bit, “I have risked as much many times over, and even if this risk were to be my last, I would consider my life a coin well spent.”

There is a pensive frown from Sirrah, before she adds, “I may have been the kindly grandmother figure to you and yours, Lady Emilia, but that has not always been my way. I have long fought these battles, and if victory is measured by avoiding disaster, then I suppose I have won. But if victory is negated by the death of the innocent and undeserving, then I waver a hair’s breadth from having accomplished nothing at all with the entirety of my vigil. Had you met me twenty, or even ten years earlier, I likely would have arranged for your death almost immediately after the Banshee was bound. I might even have allowed Jaren to burn in the castle rather than show him the truths of the world. I have done dark deeds in the name of the Faith, with the belief that I was protecting this world, and it was only when my own mortality stared back at me in the mirror that I questioned whether another path could be found, and I drew the line that I would not cross as surely as we drew the circle that bound the Banshee yet again. I would not let another family die purely for secrecy. I would find a better way. Perhaps it is too late in life to ever make peace with the things that I have done, but I will not let that cease my effort.”

“Besides, there isn’t anyone else I would trust to perform the ritual. And we will hardly be alone. The danger to me should be comparatively minimal.” Sirrah notes, returning more to her “normal” self even if her words still bear dark truths, “I have feared for you. And I have feared for those near you. I care for you and yours as closely as any family I’ve had, Emilia, have no doubt of that, but I dread the possibility that if we do not find a way to rid you of this burden you bear, that one day it will consume you, and possibly the Kingdom of Rivana along with it. I know you would never harm your brother, or his wife, or their children. Or anyone at all undeservedly, if it could be avoided. But this thing within you I know would given opportunity. You have been as strong as any I have ever seen, but strength eventually fades. Resolve eventually wavers. I will not force you to do this thing, Emilia, but I do not know that there is any other hope for release, barring some manner of miracle, and in my experience it falls upon humanity to make its’ own miracles a good portion of the time.”

Sirrah pauses, her aged face smiling with both a touch of wry humor and weariness, “You deserved these truths. As for the Church, I have deliberately taken steps to keep the Vigil apart from what transpires within it now. I do not know what outcome will prevail, but I will take no part to influence it either way unless I deem it absolutely necessary.” Sirrah once again takes up her teacup and sips, “And to your final question: I simply don’t know. Perhaps it would make the Exorcism impossible, perhaps it would pass to some other Banshee, or perhaps it would simply fade, removed of anything to sustain it. I cannot say with any certainty.”

"Discomfort…is being of an understatement, I am of thinking, to what I would be put of through in undergoing of this ritual." The comment comes out more a murmur than anything. "I am of assured of that." A slight breath is drawn as Emilia pushes aside the rage filled commentary in her head, or tries to. It was a topic that They had an exceedingly strong opinion about and more than a few words to 'share'. "What of then is of the risk to those who will not be of..participating..but only of observing the of ritual?"

The cup of tea is set soundlessly back upon its saucer after that hard gaze is turned upon er and there is that change within Sirrah's demeanor towards her. Even if Emilia's own expression remains unchanged, her hands simply fluttering down into her lap. "I am of aware that /you/ did not of say they were as of likely." It is only a mild stress that comes with the word 'you' in reference to the other source trying to provide…information.

"Of aye, I am of remembering, ArchBishop of Sirrah. You spoke once before of this. Your hand was stayed from of ending to mine-life for the hope of turning Jaren to of your cause. As you thought it would harm of the chances of his support if I was of….perishing as of well. You did not of spare me for mine sake, but for them and what you hoped to of gain." It is not a thing that is spoken with malice or any ting of emotion, more like a simple statement of fact. They had talked about it before. "A of risk and change of path that of paid of out in of the end. The cause has of gained, as has of Rivana. Of perhaps a risk that would not have been of taken if you knew of then what you know now about what was actually of done to of me, what is of within. " There is a slight pause from Emilia before she adds,"There have been of days where I have wished for that. That you had not of decided it was worth of the risk to let me live."

The thought is cast off with a mild turn and flutter of her fingers as they rest in her lap. Her expression settling back to that impassive turn so common to her, from what little, almost unmeasurable, shift that had come with the slight admission. Listening quietly to what more Sirrah has to say, her eyes drifting down to her tea for a few moments before they lift again. "I am of seeing." There is no further explanation forthcoming, simply a few more moments of silence fall. Eventually Emilia does note,"If it was know, this of danger, that which you of fear, that mine-death would be ordered as ElK'a'athren's has of been." Of that, she seems to have no doubt. How easily it might be carried out, might be another story. But then that was not likely a task that would be given to Jaren like his current one.

"There was chance for of a miracle….once. I was of foolish…selfish, and this is what is left to of me." The price to be paid. She should have accepted His offer. Emilia gives a slight shake of her head before her hand moves to pick up the cup of tea again. "There is much for me to think upon in of this. Much to be sorted of through, there is much of…noise." Understatement. "There is one more of question,” actually lots, but most are not likely to ever have answers,” I would have, should I decide to of do this but of ask that when the deep of cut is of made, the knife goes a touch of too deep, would it be of done?"

"I do not of believe that it would pass to of another of Banshee, it is being of ElK'a'athren, of Her of energy…even if of alive where She is…not of alive. Have never understood of that, how it could of be." Emilia takes a small sip of tea before moving on from that little puzzlement. "It is good to of know that such has been of done, and measures are there to try to keep of the Vigil of apart from it. I am of sure most would find of some comfort in of that, if only to know their of faegate of travel will not of risk disruption easily." A beat. "Did you get of mine letter?"

“So far as I am aware, there is no particular risk to others present. I have seen no records of an exorcised spirit inhabiting others present, for example. I suppose some small danger should you break free under their influence, but I don’t intend for an audience that isn’t capable of defending itself if need be.” Sirrah notes, a flicker of a frown there as she considers those implications yet again. But what must be, must be.

Sirrah frowns deeper still at Emilia’s next question, after listening to the intervening words, “A chance for a miracle?“ This sounds like…something Sirrah hasn’t heard before, “Of which do you speak, Emilia? If you know of another pathway to alleviate that which plagues you, I assure you I will listen most intently.” When the further question comes, though, there’s a touch of surprise and alarm in Sirrah’s face, “Are you asking me to kill you rather than see this thing done, Emilia?” Sirrah shakes her head, “No, I will not take your life at your wish. But I can promise you that if I feel you are or will truly be a threat to others beyond those that have chosen to weigh the risk in the course of these matters…I will do what is necessary.”

Sirrah seems almost relieved for a change of topic though, smiling her somewhat secretive smile as she notes, “I did, and as it so happens it neatly fit together with those measures that we have just spoken of. The Library at Garfana has been receiving small shipments of books for weeks now, and will continue to do so, and Baron t’Acuto will be provided a list of the Vigilants of Couviere who should be permitted access, through Queen Cynthia. Likewise books have been being sent to Rivana, to be disbursed as your brother sees fit, though I think he is sorely weighing the idea of letting Count Giorgio Bazan know of the Vigil’s true scope.” Sirrah’s smile fades a bit, her tone more serious a she notes, “There may well be other shipments to come. Weapons, primarily. And there are a multitude of objects that require safekeeping but I am not sure how best to broach that task.”

Sirrah looks more sharply to Emilia, “You have held confidences before and will no doubt do so again. Suffice to say that the infighting within the Church, however much I seek to avoid it, does concern me greatly, and so in fear of…certain factions…seizing control of Sanctum or the Faith itself, I am taking steps to assure that they do not become privy to things that they should not, for I fear they could not be trusted to wield the knowledge and power responsibly. Worse yet they would feel they were being righteous in abusing both.” She shakes her head, “This work has continued for months and will continue still even should I be taken into the One’s embrace.” Sirrah is, after all, a very old woman. “And there will be instructions delivered to the Commanders of the Vigil should that occur.” Such a paradoxical thing, to one moment be discussing killing someone as a possible threat and the next to be sharing secrets with them, but such is the world the Archbishop Sirrah Lancella lives in, it seems.

Emilia nods, some flicker of relief to that. It was a factor that would not need to be weighed in the processes. "If I were to break of free, I..We…would be of attacking you first, or of Lon, if he was being of present. Otherwise it would be of Jaren." There is a certainty to her tone on that order of potential targets. But then Emilia did know all too well just how They felt about whom. "While They like to of disagree, I am not of thinking there will be of much worry to of others if We were to go for Lon of first. As I am of having faith he would see of the threat dealt with." Even if things had changed since they first met, and she knew it would not be as easy for him as it might have been then, Emilia knew he would still see to that duty.

"It is no longer of a pathway that is possible." Though every faegate trip for while may have her praying for another 'gate-mishap' to occur. "I was of offered an…opportunity of once, to be of free of this of burden, but it of came at of a cost. Just as of the path of now has of risks and of costs to of it. I made of a choice, perhaps selfishly of so. But I of fear that is all I can speak of it, for to speak of further comes with a price and of consequences as of well." There is actually an additional bent of seriousness when Emilia speaks on the matter, even if vaguely so. Considering the serious and dark bent to the conversation already, it is maybe telling in its own way. For she knows even to have said that much is possibly to much. Even if only for how it causes a rise within Them, that tightness about her eyes continuing to persist as the whole matter is spoken about. Emilia shakes her head just a touch, "Not of exactly, I am of asking it such would be of an option for consideration. Of which, it is clearly of not." She pauses briefly, "And what if I am not of a threat, but if what is of left is nothing of who I am? If I am nothing but of a shell?" Worries that most may have if they were in her situation, certainly worries that come easily to the young woman. Another faint shake of her head comes a moment later, "I am of sorry, it is not of fair for me to ask of such things. There are too many of unknowns, of uncertainties. To many of questions that cannot be of answered."

Sirrah is not the only one relieved at the shift in conversation. "I am of glad that the timing was of convenient. the request did of make of sense when Lord of Lucas and I discussed of matters. Though he did not feel of comfortable reaching out to you himself. And from how he spoke of his uncle, I of imagine Baron of t'Acuto is most of happy to be receiving the shipments." The man did love his books! A faint nod comes, "It makes of some sense, as Count of Bazan would guard of the knowledge well and has much respect for it as Baron of t'Acuto." A small cant comes to Emilia's head at the talk of objects being safe guarded. "Perhaps not of being the most of…conventional of ideas, and perhaps not of plausible for all which may need to be of safe guarded, but have you of considered seeking of Lon's aid in of this? He is not of unfamiliar with needing to of hide of away and keep things of secret and safe."

There is another nod from Emilia, that silent agreement that she has held confidences and would yet do so. What Sirrah does come to say has a brow raising just ever so slightly, a hint of alarm. "I am of agree, such of steps of assurance ae of prudent to have been taking." Not that Sirrah needs confirmation of this from a nineteen year old, even if said nineteen year old has faced and dealt with more than most her age. "There are of certain…factions…who could do much of harm simply to be of having some of the knowledge." Thoughts of Inquisitors dancing in her head about now. "I would of fear greatly if they were to have full of access to both of knowledge of of objects." Even if Emilia's knowledge was exceedingly limited in that area, she knew enough to measure the outcome. After all one little stone in the wrong hands had nearly destroyed Rivana. "It is of good to of hear that there is such of in place, not that I would wish for that day to come any sooner than it of must. But that is of raising the question, who would be of taking your of place when of that day should come?" As Sirrah is an old woman, and it will happen someday. "Or is this not something you can be of arranging but will be of appointed through of the Church?" It would seem it is rather a world Emilia Cassomir lives within as well, discussing her potential death and need for it, and the next books and secrets of a different nature.

Sirrah is clearly curious about this “offer” Emilia had made to her, but seeing the seriousness with which she speaks of saying all she can, and knowing full well how stubborn the girl can be when it comes to NOT answering questions when she wishes, she chooses to let the matter lie…for now. At the latter bit, however, Sirrah’s expression softens.

“They are not unfair questions, Emilia. It is your life we are discussing. If an ill fate should befall you, and you are unable to decide for yourself, the choice of how to deal with that should be made by your family. I cannot imagine they would wish you to suffer, and if need arose, I would do what I can to insure that it would not be their hands that would see to a final mercy if it were decided. Nor Lon’s, unless he or they insisted.”

The matters shifted back to the Vigil, Sirrah shakes her head slightly, “Now, I fear, it is my turn to keep my own counsel. As I said…there are plans, but I will confess that I have not prepared the Order as well as I should have for my inevitable passing. My one great failing…but then I had not foreseen the turmoil that the Church would find itself in, otherwise I would have shoved Lucien through a one-way Faegate years ago.” There’s a touch of anger in her tone there. Not that it was really her job to seek those kinds of threats, but she’s still furious that she was taken in like so many others. If not into friendship, at least into the belief that he was no more dangerous than any other ambitious, high-ranking Clergy, of which there are many. Still, Sirrah does nod a bit, “But yes…I suspect we think of the same factions, and while the Vigil has been diligent in destroying all harmful yet seductive artifacts we are capable of destroying, there are some that…defy easy destruction, and thus their hiding places are closely-kept. As for Lon…perhaps I will speak with him on the matter, but while he and I have a degree of accord, his focus is largely upon you.” She adds, “And Her.”

Emilia nods faintly,"My of life, my of soul," which may be forfeit already for…reasons (like unnatural congress with ancient Changling!),"…all that I of am. I of know that of the risk to of failure is of less than of success. But there is of risk that cannot be of ignored. And even of success…I am not of knowing just what normal would even of be." Her life hadn't exactly been 'normal' before the incident. "I of know, such should be of made by of them, yet, I would not wish them to have such a burden. They have such of hope. Especially of Raelyn, she so oft sees nothing but of the hope and none of the risks, that things might not go of well." There is a small breath,"I will think upon of it all. It is much to be of weighing and sorting." It was not a matter to decide lightly.

The tea is returned to with the topic turning to matters of the Vigil. And as much as Sirrah respects Emilia enough not to press further on the earlier matter, so does Emilia not press further about the plans for a successor for Sirrah, simply giving a small nod. "I am of thinking there were or none who foresaw the of turmoil that has come. Other of wise, I am of thinking you would not be of the only one to have sought to see his of end." All the people vying to kill him the most creatively does make for an interesting thought experiment. A small sip is taken of the tea as she does listen. "Of aye, I imagine of so." There was a reason that the Cassomirs did try to politely ensure any passing Inquisitors staying on were short stays. "Of aye, his is focus is upon of Her, but he was of created to see to the destruction of Her kind. It is of an unfinished duty." Duty was something Emilia understood all to well. "I was..am…a part of that. Though I of admit, such of focus has likely of changed some since we of Danced and became of Mates in the old of ways." A faint touch of pink just may exist in the cheeks of the younger Cassomir, even if more for the memory of that 'ritual' then the admission there was something actually 'formal' between them.

Sirrah quirks a brow, with an expression that wavers somewhere between amused and concerned, “Yes well…He is a handsome sort, at least in the form he wears now. It would be lying to say that I am completely comfortable with the idea, but it is not my decision to make. Besides, your life is hardly normal, and it would be cruel to seek to bar you from what happiness you might find.” Sirrah notes, “He did not tell me, in so many words. It was more an…intuition.” Sirrah shakes her head slightly, “And much as I wish I could simply sit down for months with him and sift through thousands of years of knowledge, my life doesn’t allow for that luxury.” Sirrah smiles a touch, “I will visit once more with your sister before travelling to Sunsreach briefly, to confer with your brother on different matters. If you have anything else you wish to share or questions you wish to ask, I will be in my usual guest quarters here in the castle. As for your decision…keep me informed. Though for the moment I am not sure the matter is one that needs decided quickly. If I learn otherwise, I will certainly let you know.”

“He has of said that this of form is being closest to his true form,” least one of his true forms. Emilia nods a little,”I am doubt there would be to of many comfortable with the idea in knowing the truth. But it is of true, my life is not being of normal. And in of truth, neither of us sought this, it was happening more by of accident. “ There is a small upwards shift at the corners of Emilia’s lips, in direct contrast to the tightness that has existed about her eyes for much of their conversation,”But this of…accident, I have not been of minding. Nor of he, as it was being his of idea to not continue to keep of things so of secret.” Emilia had done rather well in keeping it secret all considering. “ And I cannot of deny that there is of a happiness in of it that I did not of think to be of possible for me.”

“I am thinking most do not have of that luxury, and even if such was of had, there is much he has forgotten. More I think, he has forgotten more than either of us could endeavour to learn and of know.” To the rest, Emilia nods. “I will be of sure to raise any of others questions that come and l will keep you of informed. I have much to think upon of it, and will of likely be of talking some of it over with of Lon.” And one or two others, best not named in the moment.

“Then I will be happy for you despite any misgivings I might have.” Sirrah notes with a smile of her own, reaching over to briefly, warmly squeeze Emilia’s hand, “And now I will take up no more of your time. I’m sure you’ve matters to attend to.” Sirrah rises to her feet, smoothly but slowly, giving Emilia one more smile, before she moves out of the room at a leisurely pace, though more due to age than lack of motivation. “Good day to you, Emilia. The One bless you and keep you.” She adds, before opening the thick wooden door and stepping out.

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