101 – Deserve

Rafael enjoyed few things as much as he did solving problems of a logistical or political nature, but even he had his limits. Finally dragging his attention away from the paper on his desk, he glanced up at the timekeeper and winced at what he saw. He’d known it was getting late, but not that late.

With great effort, he forced himself to set his pen down and lean back in his chair to rub at his temples. An ache had taken root in his skull, one that he was only recognizing the extent of now.

I have been asking for this for nigh on a century, haven’t I? he thought to himself, eyes closed as he continued rubbing. Vanguard has returned, and with that comes a mountain of paperwork worthy of the event.

He really should find a proper assistant sooner rather than later. Once more, he mourned the loss of Allegra. He would consider it a great victory if he could find someone a quarter as competent as that woman.

Hands dropping to the armrests of his chair, he considered the half-finished contract on his desk. “Tomorrow,” he mumbled to himself. “I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

A tired mind was prone to mistakes, and he’d already made a large enough one with Duke Caldimore to fulfill that unsavory quota for a decade. Not that a construction contract could ever explode in such a catastrophic fashion that it would rival that mess, but he would need to sleep regardless, so he might as well do so now and come back refreshed.

He spent a minute tidying up his office before he left the guildhall for the night. Not because he was a person who grew agitated existing in a messy environment, but because he enjoyed making order from chaos. As a matter of fact, that was what he considered his core purpose in life, so it was natural that the desire extended to small details as well.

When he was done, he strode out and passed through Vanguard’s common room—only to slow and come to a stop when an unexpected sight caught his eye.

Vivisari was there, seated on the sofa.

The woman was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t so much as glance at him. Maybe his presence hadn’t registered at all. Losing track of her surroundings—or reality entirely—when something ensnared her attention was far from out of character for the Sorceress, but there were hardly any world-ending magical phenomena floating in front of the mantel to have piqued her interest.

Rafael’s thoughts began churning. Why was she here so late at night? Why did a shadow cover her normally inexpressive face? What did this arrangement of clues imply? He found an answer within seconds, and his lips tightened.

Ah. It seemed that unfortunate inevitability had come to pass, then.

That Vivisari had headed for the guild’s common room after learning the news came as no surprise. Though her party members were gone, Vanguard’s hall was likely one of the few places she found instinctual comfort. Even if many years had passed, the four other Heroes had been the only people in the world this woman could call true peers, and this had been one of their gathering spots.

He and Vivisari hadn’t spoken about those four’s passing, and her general avoidance of them as a topic was conspicuous… if understandable. Grief could be blunted over a hundred years, but never erased entirely.

Rafael wondered what to do. He and Vivisari were not friends. At least, they hadn’t been before her disappearance. So far as he knew, the only people Vivisari would have considered ‘friends’ back then would have been the other Heroes. Since her reemergence, she had admittedly been much more genial toward him. Of course, it was still Vivisari, so she remained cold and aloof by normal standards—yet he knew some of that coldness was simply born from her being an asocial person by nature.

Point being: closer than before or not, he wasn’t certain if he had the necessary rapport with the woman to sit down and try to comfort her. Many worked things out better alone than they did with others, and Vivisari was almost certainly one such personality. That said, the topic at hand probably wasn’t something he should leave to fester, even for a solitary creature like the Sorceress.

He mulled over his options, all of this mental rumination occurring in a few short seconds. Coming to a decision, he adjusted course and walked to the armchair perpendicular to the sofa. He took a seat himself. She glanced over, blinking once and confirming his suspicion that she really had been so lost in thought that she hadn’t noticed him.

“Back from the Institute, I take it,” he opened.

She stirred slightly in surprise, then nodded.

“And the fate of a certain assassin has been confirmed,” he stated more than asked.

“How could you possibly know that?” she asked. “I just got back.”

He shrugged. Normally he would play coy; he enjoyed cultivating an aura of mystical competence. Yet not only was it not a difficult deduction, but now wasn’t the time. “You said it was a high priority, something you would attend to as soon as you could. What else, for you to show up at this time of night in Vanguard’s common room to stare darkly at the mantel in dead silence?”

Vivisari considered that response with her usual blank face. “I see,” she finally said, looking away. “Keen as always, Rafael.”

“If you’d like me to leave, I will, of course, oblige,” he replied. “It would be understandable if you wanted to be alone with your thoughts.”

Vivisari didn’t respond, which was more than enough of an answer, and a somewhat surprising one. She did want to talk.

Rafael mulled over how to go about his reassurances. He could be a deft speaker, but the more emotional a topic became, the more his skill in the matter undoubtedly waned. In most subjects, he approached things as logically as he could, and that could be oil and water in matters of the heart. “It goes without saying that few deserved a summary execution so much as the Red Tithe, but perhaps hearing it stated aloud will help regardless.”

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Vivisari didn’t seem reassured, but then again, even he could only glean so much from that stony face. “It helps… some. But… I don’t want to be the person who decides whether someone deserves to die.”

“And that is beyond understandable,” he said. “But from what I gather, you made no such judgment. Circumstances forced your hand. A snap reflex is very different from a measured decision. It is entirely acceptable to kill in self-defense, in the heat of the moment, and while defending a child under your protection. Not a person on the planet would condemn you for your actions. Many would say you had been obligated to act as you did.”

“I know,” Vivisari said, and nothing more.