Fucking Cadell

“Ahai, Janto. I am glad that you are doing well. I have faith that whatever trials you or yours face, you will continue to triumph over them.”

Am I doing well?

That was the question in my heart as I sat on an old wooden bench not far from the Vanguard Hospital. The last time I had sat here, about five years ago, I wore dirty old clothes, the best I had to my name as a Krytan only recently returned home. The last time I sat here, I had recently left the hospital, recovering from just one of many wounds I’d receive facing a cult of lunatics over the years.

Now I wore the dress uniform of a Shining Blade, an outfit worn by the greatest Krytans called to serve their queen.

I love my queen so very much. But somehow I loved someone more. Somehow, no matter what I did, I was going to have to choose one victory or the other. Victory for Kryta, or victory for me? Weren’t they supposed to be the same?

I had an old earthen disk in my palm. It didn’t look much different than a coin, and I found myself flipping it between fingers, one way and then the other across my knuckles. 

I had always defined success by the quality, and capacity I had to serve my people. Could I hold onto that forever? Always put that first? Maybe. I took a brief glance at the space on the bench next to me, empty save for a memory of someone who sat there beside me, the memory of someone I’d tried to dissuade. Maybe I’d really only been trying to protect myself.

Here I was now, near the pinnacle of my discipline. Only a few months in with my new student, and I’d pushed myself further than I had the past year. One must teach to learn when they reach a certain age, and here I was, so close to the top. Perhaps soon I would be even a match for Aoshang, now, or Marken if he was still alive. 

But what did that get me?

I’d been so afraid that if I chose Inasis over Kryta that one day I would feel bitterness for her, that all I’d worked for my whole life was thrown aside for her.

But now? Now I felt it, now I couldn’t deny it. From a woman like Inasis, who thought and spoke with such precision and grace, I’d only been given two sentences.

I felt it. The bitterness. A tiny egg of anger — toward Kryta, and my queen.

Inasis, 

I spoke tonight briefly with a Lady Kalonah Valdyr. I didn't remember her, but she remembered meeting me in your company. Of course I felt like kind of a jerk for forgetting, but it made me think of you, and days past.

Our meeting was at a fundraiser to refugees from Elona, and for Amnoon, and I had visited it late to offer what I could. 

I do miss you, and wonder how you doing. Are you well? 

For my part, my mind is healthier than it became when we parted, but the trials of my duty to Queen and Kryta, and to the good people of Tyria, have been many. I often find myself in situations where I miss your intelligence, cunning and capability. And your sense of righteousness. 

Lady Valdyr gave me a box of chocolates I mean to give to Sati next I see her. When you see her, please give her my love. I will do the same, of course, for you. 

I have a student at last, one I think will be capable of sticking it out. I hope this will push my own skill to new heights. She has mettle and curiosity, and I respect her drive. She also has many trials to overcome, and I hope I have the wisdom to guide her well.

Be well. Lyssa watch over you.*  

Janto Adega Cadell

This file has been submitted immediately to the Shining Blade and Ministry Guard. There is paperwork attached requesting it be sent to the Ash Legion by way of Brandy Emberslice. Similar paperwork suggests members of the Blade and Guard share this intelligence with trusted assets and allies, and others who may need to know for Kryta's security.

The file is an addition to DR-SAL-11-12. The heavy scent of pipe smoke clings to it.

Date: 80 Colossus, 1330 AE

Persons involved: Exemplar Janto Adega Cadell, investigating officer, herein designated in the first person; Maddie Newman, victim; Tyrinnis Sylvante, witness; Magnolia (a sylvari), witness; The Figure, person of interest; [There are also the identities of several other people redacted, listed as victims]; [The name of an asset is redacted]

In the early evening of 80 Colossus, I received a report information me MADDIE NEWMAN had been reported missing. As she was a witness in a previous case [DR-SAL-11-12-A-SB1 and DR-SAL-11-12 for reference. The facts tie into this report as well] I assisted with the search.

Three Shining Blade sat together over a barracks table card game. One was distracted, her face in a new file, a request for a sylvari to be officially recognized as an asset. She was skilled at tracking, understanding the state of nature (surprising how often that came up with dragons and other corruptions), summoning, traversing almost any terrain, infiltration, scouting, channeling immense power, and throwing down when a huge blast of magic was needed. 

“Cadell vouches for this one,” the woman said.

“He usually doesn’t like his assets recognized,” said a younger blade.

“I heard he plans to call on this one’s help a lot,” said the third, who was studying his cards in frustration.

“The man really needs to just get a partner,” said the woman.

“He’s been down on that since Modremoth,” the third said, tossing his cards out, face up with a sigh.

The younger said, “At least he isn’t asking for her to be allowed to join. Wouldn’t that be silly? To invite someone who isn’t human?”

They all laughed knowingly. 

The deafening beat of a chopper and the rumbling of an engine sent Janto inward.

In meditation he found a calming darkness, a soothing stillness. And then he found the sea again. 

Roiling beneath him, the sea had waves of red, blue and yellow, orange, black and white. Emotion, each with its place. Recently, over the surface, a shimmering combination of azure and emerald formed a blanket across the sea, a calming influence that kept the waves from climbing too high. Deep below the surface, a golden, burning gem sank deeper and deeper, its light slowly, mournfully fading.

Today there was something new. A little flash of pink and purple, fluttering around just above the waves. There were words shouted at him under the shade and roar of chopper blades. He had to be the one to go? “Because you can keep them safe.”

“Whether you like it or not, you’re someone that some look up to, for guidance or protection, or just... yeah.”

Why?

“Lets just get those we can mobilized out of here now, and then... we can figure out the rest? Stay safe for me, OK?”

Why?

That single word choked him like a knot caught in his throat. Why? 

Others before had said similar things. Fearless leader. Captain. No.

He was just a soldier. A damn idiot more often than not. He had no wisdom. He was no leader. He was just a man with his sword, a man with a body forged into a weapon.

“Nnnnnnnnnn....”

Those were the only words that escaped Janto as he sat beneath the Waystation waypoint. Nearby, a few dozen refugees were being sorted out, prepared for a more convenient trip to Divinity’s Reach. In the last moments of a rescue operation gone south, Janto had sent more people through a waygate than strictly safe, saving the last trip for himself.

“Ma’am, would you believe I get asked that a lot?” 

“Just give it time, squirt.”

Janto was slumped over the back of a park bench, staring straight up at the sky, arms draped over the backrest. For the most part, he looked pretty dead, especially owing to a few nice new bumps and bruises. No surprise there.

“You know, I might be.”

Janto spoke from the ground, flat on his ass — and head. Laying flat he had his eyes closed. He hurt, like usual, but this time around it was particularly ludicrous. He’d completed the mission, saved the girl, won the day and more. And then the explosion. Dressed in simple chain armor, Janto fell from the upper city of Divinity’s Reach, down from the balcony of one of the fancy buildings way up high on the walls. With a blast of wind from his boots, he had landed in a comically positioned pile of hay. How nice.

The answers Janto would give to this question are lies. They’re interesting lies, and things he really does want to know, but not the three he would ask if given the opportunity for the full and absolute truth. The real answers are personal to other people, and not his business to share.

The answers would come over a day, while working, training or seeing to the various technical tasks he had to carry out.

“Who the hell pointed a torturous courtier woman, an insane necromancer, a soal-sucking horror show ghost that made people want to off themselves, and a giant flaming asshole at me!?”

“The Courtiers responsible for infecting Tindorin before the Maguuma assault — what hole did they crawl into? They must know what I’ll do to them if I find them. I was never a fan of the scorch earth approach, but godsdamn would it feel good in this case.”

“Where can I find a student willing and able to put in the effort I put for my own training? You can’t become the best being a smartass, thinking you’re too cool to be trained, by back talking back or throwing little temper tantrums to show your master you’re a tough, independent person. I see other masters of a discipline putting up with this stuff. They shouldn’t. Their students are bound to be sub par in the end. If I’m to teach someone, I need someone passionate and willing to learn real discipline and skill, and put in real work.”

Bonus: “OK, but seriously, no one wants to go hunting? I swear it’s a good experience. No, not you, Kitra, I know you do. I’m not talking about giant beasts.”

OOC:

Inasis. Nailed it.

News of a report came out the morning after the attack on the Harvest Dinner in Rurikton. The report had been submitted to the Shining Blade first. And then, in the interest of public safety, it had been sent to the ministry, to Seraph command, and then delivered directly to Lucien Nether, and Commanders Visar Nezam and Aurelia Tallius. 

The intent was to be sure even the public is aware of a few details, which are actively shared and communicated across necessary channels (which are conveniently the whole story, more or less): 

 A symbol of a cultist group, often referred to as The Faceless, was found at the source of a bloodstone beast that attacked a caravan guarding children departing Gendarran Fields a few weeks ago. This is on the back of a previous report indicating a strange symbol — now identified — had been found near the site of the attack. 

 The same symbol was found at the site of the attack in Rurikton. 

Civilians are advised to keep their eyes out, and report anything suspicious they see immediately to the seraph. 

Those who intend to defend Gendarran Fields are advised to be on high alert for threats far exceeding that of centaur, and to be aware centaur may have access to bloodstone.