Rebirth of the Nephilim

“I’m s—sorry sir but I must refuse to answer that q—question as I b—believe it would breach the, ah, privacy of another’s status sheet.”

“It wasn’t a request, guardswoman Thea of Cold Brook. It’s an order. Tell me what you know about the skills and abilities of those Nephilim.”

Thea could feel the sweat running down her back as she stared straight ahead, eyes locked onto a tiny imperfection in the stonework of the wall across from her. It looked like someone had taken a chip out of the edge of a block about six feet off the ground, possibly when someone’s armor knocked against the wall in the past, or maybe when a steel weapon had struck it by some chance. Thinking about how that chip came to be in the wall was a poor distraction against the overwhelming presence of General Egilhard, but it was all Thea had in the moment so she clung to that tiny break in the stone as tightly as if she were hanging a hundred feet off the ground.

“I’m sorry sir b—but I must refuse to—”

“Shut it,” the general snapped, cutting Thea off like a knife.

The hard-eyed man stood before her, stiff-backed and glowering. Pale gray eyes regarded Thea, watching her like a bird of prey would a mouse. His salt-and-pepper beard was immaculately trimmed and, combined with his hook nose, gave him a dignified look, even in his anger. He was still wearing his battle armor, the mud of the field fresh on his boots and the scent of demonic blood on his blade. Egilhard had a naturally domineering presence, an aura of command that set him apart from the common soldier even when he wasn’t fuming. When he was fuming, his force of will was practically suffocating.

Thea deeply, deeply regretted being the object of his ire.

“Do you mean to tell me that you are refusing a direct order from a superior officer?” Egilhard asked, his voice steel draped in velvet. “If that is what you are telling me, guardswoman Thea, then I must inform you that you can and will be court martialed for committing such a breach of protocol.”

“I—I, ah, I am s—sorry b—but—”

“Spit it out, woman!” he interrupted her fumbling words. “Did you leave your tongue on the floor somewhere? At least speak with the dignity befitting your station if you haven’t the sense to follow proper orders!”

“I cannot d—disclose information regarding an active a—assignment to anyone but my d—direct superior!” Thea rushed out as quickly as she could, wincing with each betraying stutter that plagued her words. Belatedly she remembered to add on at least a token acknowledgement of his rank. “S—sir!”

The general’s frown deepened, his dark brow made darker by his mood. With slow, precise steps he circled Thea where she stood at full attention in the middle of the general’s office. He stopped behind her, where she couldn’t see his steely eyes, and waited silently except for the creak of his armor and the deep breaths through his nose.

If the general thought the looming silence would break her composure, he had gauged her wrong. The tactic no doubt worked on most people, but not on her. Thea much preferred the silence to his thundering questions. If it meant she didn’t have to talk for a few minutes longer, all the better.

Of course, while the silence that was meant to discomfort her did little but give her a mental reprieve, the real torture was the struggle to keep from collapsing from sheer exhaustion. From the distant Fort Rook to the battlefield outside Far Felsen and then into the city itself, Thea had yet to take a rest. She’d been up for more than a day by that point, if the light coming through the general’s curtained windows told her truth. Thea hadn’t even eaten yet, much less slept, and she felt like her limbs were made of lead as she continued to stand at the perfect attention General Egilhard required of her.

Inwardly, Thea cursed that she’d foolishly let herself be separated from Jadis. She should have stuck with her under the pretenses of her orders to guard her, especially since no other guards had arrived to take her place once they were inside the city walls. If she’d stuck with Jadis, she wouldn’t have caught the attention of the sharp-eyed general. Probably.

“And whom do you mean when you say, ‘direct superior’, guardswoman?”

Fish guts and wet socks, she had to talk again.

“M—magistrate Vrae—Vraekae, sir.”

There was some more blessed silence, but not much.

“Indeed. Well then, guardswoman,” Egilhard said as he finished his circuit around her. “As the Magistrate is currently busy with a host of duties revolving around the restoration and recovery of the province from demonic attack, I have been granted the authority to oversee all of her active military assignments and resources. And you are currently on duty as part of one of her active assignments, are you not?”

“Yes sir.”

“Which means I am at this time your direct superior, am I not?”

“Yes sir.”

“Then do as you have been ordered and tell me what you know concerning those three Nephilim.”

“I’m s—sorry sir but I m—must refuse—”

“Gods blast it woman!” Egilhard shouted, his language slipping from common imperial into the harsh human tongue. “If you don’t tell me I swear I will have you hanged for insubordination during a time of war!”

“Will you now?” a calm, cold, spine-tingling voice commented from behind Thea in the same language. “By what means has my guardswoman committed insubordination, general?”

“Magistrate,” Egilhard said, his face and posture instantly schooled into perfect composure from the mask of seething fury he’d betrayed a moment before.

Even without the general’s acknowledgement, Thea had known who it was when the terrifying woman had spoken. No one sent chills down her spine quite like the statuesque elf. Even knowing she was a fair and honorable leader, Thea could never shake the instinctual reaction she felt whenever she was in the same room as the exceptionally powerful mage. If Egilhard had a domineering aura, Magistrate Vraekae had one a hundred times more fearsome.

“General,” Vraekae spoke softly but clearly as her boots clicked against the stone floor. “You have leveed an accusation of insubordination against one of my most valued agents. Please, elaborate.”

Most valued agents? That was new. When had Thea achieved that vaunted status? Even if it was true, which she doubted, Thea had no particular desire for the title. It made her sound like some kind of spy.

“Guardswoman Thea of Cold Brook has disobeyed a direct order from a superior officer to relay information regarding the expedition she recently returned from.”

“I see.”

Vraekae made the two words sound like death knells. How she was able to do it without raising her voice confounded Thea.

“Well, seeing as her orders were to report directly to me and no other, I will dismiss your accusation for now. Though I will keep it in mind in future reviews of her performance. Thank you for bringing this possible breach of military protocol to my attention, general.”

“Yes ma’am,” Egilhard replied coolly, with no obvious outward signs of displeasure. Thea doubted he was so calm on the inside, however. Not with how angry he had been mere moments before.

“Guardswoman.”

“Yes ma’am!” Thea practically shouted like she was a mere trainee back in the academy answering to her sergeant.

“With me.”

“Y—yes! Ma’am!”

With that, Thea turned and followed Vraekae out of Egilhard’s office, leaving the general behind to seethe in solitude.

Marching behind the intimidating elf was almost a relief. Thea had spent many, many hours doing exactly that ever since she’d come to Weigrun. As one of the guards put on special detail, Thea had often found herself stationed at the Magistrate’s doors or escorting her as she went about her day. Not that the elf needed an escort. She’d seen what Magistrate Vraekae could do to a person with her magics. The red ball of arcane force that floated just behind her shoulder was a constant reminder of just how quickly the mage could shred a foe into paste, demon or otherwise.

Yes, falling back into her normal duty of superfluously guarding the Magistrate sounded almost as appealing to Thea as shedding her armor and falling into bed to sleep for a few weeks. Which was why when the magistrate reached her office doors and then imperiously beckoned her inside, Thea was doubly disappointed. It seemed her day was not yet complete.

Once inside, the Magistrate shed the high-collared riding coat she’d been wearing and, rather than taking a seat behind her crowded yet orderly desk, she headed for the pair of comfortable armchairs set by her fireplace. With a wave of her hand, she motioned for Thea to take a seat, an offer Thea hesitated to accept for no few reasons.

“Never mind the upholstery,” Vraekae said, bringing attention to the woeful state of cleanliness the guardswoman’s armor was in. “It can be cleaned. Just sit.”

Thea wanted to tell the Magistrate that thoughts of getting her cushions dirty had been the last thing on her mind. But since her throat tightened up near enough to choke her, she simply saluted and took the seat offered to her.

Vraekae’s disquieting red eyes regarded Thea for a time. Then, as she was beginning to wonder if she was trying to use the silent treatment on her just as the general had, Vraekae’s orb moved.

Rather than transforming into a spiked ball of death, it morphed into a delicate-looking hand, then split in half and became two hands. With speed and precision, the hands moved to light the fire, then fill a kettle with water and put it over the fire. Then, in short order, the spectral hands prepared two porcelain cups, setting the tea leaves inside to make them ready for the water once it boiled.

All the while, Vraekae sat with eyes closed, not even looking at what her spell-created hands were doing. She said nothing, and not out of some expectation that Thea would break through use of silence, at least not by how Thea interpreted the elf’s actions. Instead, she seemed to simply be absorbing the quiet, maybe even enjoying the brief reprieve from having to talk.

Or maybe the Magistrate just knew that was how Thea felt about the silent few minutes?

Eventually the tea was served and Thea held the piping hot cup in between two hands, simply letting the fragrant steam wash over her face. Vraekae sipped her own and, seemingly satisfied, she lowered the cup from her lips and finally opened her unnervingly red eyes again to regard Thea once more.

“I assume the general was asking you to divulge information regarding the time you spent missing with Jadis?”

“Y—yes ma’am,” Thea answered promptly, almost dropping her tea. “He was.”

“Ah,” Vraekae mused, taking another sip from her own cup. “I see she told you that she is actually one and not three.”

“Ah, um, yes,” Thea admitted. She’d nearly forgotten until that moment that Jadis had told her that Vraekae already knew about her multi-body skill. “She, ah, swore me to s—secrecy. But yes.”

“Then I imagine you will do your best to uphold that oath.”

“Y—yes, ma’am,” Thea nodded.

“Then I also assume that was also what the general was ordering you to divulge? Any information you have regarding Jadis’ skills?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Thea nodded again, dreading where the line of questioning was going. She knew the Magistrate was going to order her to tell her about everything Jadis had told her. And if she did, Thea…

Well, Thea didn’t know what she was going to do. Before they had gotten lost in those gods forsaken tunnels, the answer would have been obvious. She would have followed orders and told the Magistrate everything she had learned. It was her duty to obey, after all. The Emperor had chosen Vraekae to oversee the entirety of Weigrun for a reason. The Magistrate knew best when it came to the safety of the Empire and its citizens, and who was Thea to do anything other than support her in her own just and noble duties?

Now, however, Thea was less certain in her conviction that telling Vraekae was the right thing to do. After all, she’d sworn to Jadis she wouldn’t tell anyone. She’d fought side-by-side with the amazing woman. Saved her life and had her own life saved in return. They’d been… intimate in a way Thea had never been with anyone before.

Even knowing that Thea had been upfront with her from the start and told her that she had to obey if the Magistrate ordered her, would the air between them sour once it came out that she had revealed all? Would Jadis still look at her the same way if she knew she’d given her secrets away?

Would Thea still look at herself the same way?

“Tell me exactly what you told the general,” Vraekae commanded.

That Thea did easily enough since there wasn’t much to tell. A brief outline of what had happened in Alawar and how they had been forced to flee into the tunnels. Next to nothing about what had happened within other than the loss of the rest of the guards and mercenaries. Then a quick summary of their actions once they’d made it to the surface. After that, once the general had ordered her to tell him about the skills the Nephilim possessed, Thea had done nothing but repeat her refusal.

“And that is everything? Think hard,” the Magistrate asked, refilling her teacup. “Nothing more? Those were your exact words to the general?”

“Yes ma’am,” Thea nodded.

Vraekae nodded, her mouth a thin line, broken only when she took another sip of her tea. After a few more moments of silence, she abruptly stood and made her way to her desk.

“Very well,” she said as she took a seat and immediately began rifling through some papers. “You are dismissed. Finish your tea, guardswoman, and then get some rest.”

Thea blinked, stunned by the sudden dismissal. She sat still, cup in her hands forgotten as she stared dumbfounded at the Magistrate.

“I—is that all?”

Who had said that? Thea found herself asking stupidly, only then realizing that she had been the one to so recklessly blurt out a question to the Magistrate after she had been dismissed. It was just that—well, that was all?

“All what?” Vraekae asked her as she sifted through piles of papers.

“Ah, w—well,” Thea struggled to find words, doubly shocked that not only had Vraekae not rebuked her for speaking out of turn but was actually entertaining her question. “I—I mean, I t—thought you would want more d—details on, ah, what had happened a—and what I had learned about, uh, J—adis.”

“Yes, I do want more details,” Vraekae answered, her tone as sharp as ever, though it lacked any malice. “However, you are clearly in no condition to properly recount your unexpected expedition into the recently discovered network of tunnels hiding beneath the Broken Hills. My questions can wait. You are exhausted. Go. Sleep.”

With that second dismissal, Thea didn’t argue. Though internally, questions buzzed like angry bees, not the least of which was why hadn’t the Magistrate even mentioned the idea of asking about Jadis’ skills?

Realizing that she was still sitting in one of Vraekae’s chairs, Thea fumbled with her still full cup of tea before finally deciding to just down the whole thing in one gulp. Choking back a cough, she quickly exited the Magistrate’s office, wondering what in Valtar’s name had just happened, but feeling relieved that she didn’t have to refuse any of her commanding officer’s orders.