After her initial shock, Polina's mind kicked into gear.

Leaping out of bed, she threw on an overcoat, almost ripping the fabric by how fast she forced her arms through the sleeves. Then, pausing momentarily to make sure the paladin was still in her kitchen, she crept to her bedstand and withdrew a snub-nose revolver. Checking it was loaded, she concealed it in one of the coat's pockets.

Where was Ivan, her guard?

What was Caolan doing here? At this time?

A spark of fear propagated through Polina's body, making her shudder. She was, in that very moment, acutely aware of how vulnerable she was against one of Christdom's Faithful—especially one as notorious as Caolan. It was a similar, all-consuming vulnerability to what she felt when she'd finally faced Serena Halen on the Wilderness floor.

At least there, she had Amelia to protect her.

Now, she was alone.

Taking a breath, Polina gathered her strength and exited her room. Cautiously, as if expecting a monster to attack her at any moment, she sneaked towards the kitchen. Peeking around the corner, she could see the tall figure of Caolan humming softly as he filled two cups from the kettle. He wore a heavy coat, and while Polina couldn't tell if he was concealing any weapons, his broad back and frame—coupled with his abilities—were threatening enough.

"If you're a coffee drinker, my apologies," the paladin said without looking at her. "Your Federation beans are terrible, but your tea leaves aren't half bad. Although I recommend trying to get your hands on some Kasimanda mint leaves if you can. Tremendous flavour and fragrance." He turned around and, giving Polina an easy smile, stepped towards her with the two cups of tea.

Polina instinctively took a step back, her hand going to her pocket.

The paladin paused, his eyes creasing in mirth. "You'll need a bigger gun, I'm afraid," he said nonchalantly.

Polina pulled out her gun.

"It's not for you," she said. "To get the attention of the guards." She clicked back the hammer and positioned her finger on the trigger, aiming the weapon at the floor. "What did you do with Ivan? Did you kill him?"

"Seven Heavens! Of course not!" Caolan protested, recoiling as if Polina had dealt him a great insult. "What kind of man do you take me for?"

Polina used her blessing.

There was a brief rush as something erupted from her, travelling at the speed of aether to Caolan, pinging him like an aetherscope, before returning to Polina. Once her blessing's power reached her, she felt the overwhelming sense of truthfulness from the man's words.

"He was right outside my door. Did you harm him?" Polina said.

"My dear truth-teller, I didn't kill, harm, or otherwise intimidate the man," Caolan said. "I bribed him."

She instinctively validated the truthfulness of the statement. Before she could comprehend the confession of bribery, Polina felt her eyes widen, realising what the paladin had called her.

Truth-teller.

So, he knew.

"Yes, yes," Caolan said dismissively, as if reading her thoughts, "and there's no need to worry, Miss Volkova. I have no intention of harming you, kidnapping you, or doing anything without your consent." While Polina verified his words, Caolan moved to the kitchen table, placing down the mugs and sitting in one of the chairs. "But I do intend to have a conversation with you. Nothing more."

Another use of her blessing caused her racing heart to calm down slightly.

"...How did you know I was armed?" she asked.

"I heard the cylinder rotate," Caolan casually answered. He raised a finger, tapping his right ear. "We paladins have excellent hearing."

"So I've heard. Did you really bribe Ivan?" she asked.

"Yes." Caolan shrugged. "Only for him to take an extended smoke-break, of course. He should be about… oh, thirty minutes? Then I'll be gone and you'll be back to whatever it is you do, Miss Volkova."

Despite verifying Caolan's bribery for the second time with her blessing, Polina could hardly believe that Ivan, of all men, would be susceptible to a bit of coin and all the risks that came with it.

"You doubt me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I've always found Federation ideology notoriously fragile when it comes to gold. No offence intended," he finished, tilting his head respectfully.

"Offence taken," Polina flatly answered. "I don't believe my guard would risk it. If anything happens to me, if anyone sees you leave, he'll be interrogated with a truth-teller." Despite her confidence in her blessing, Polina still couldn't believe the rock-golem-like man that shadowed her would take such a risk. Everything she'd seen from Ivan had indicated he was a man of unfathomable discipline and loyalty.

"True, true," Caolan said. "But there are ways of offering a bribe that don't sound like a bribe, aren't there? He's just taking a smoke break. If he happens to find a heavy purse someone's misplaced, then who would know any better?" The paladin reached forward, picking up his cup of tea and blowing on the steam lightly before taking a small sip. "You should know as well as I do that truth-tellers, whether in human or crystal form, are not perfect. If the person being questioned can convince themselves of a favourable interpretation, it'll pass the check."

Polina didn't answer. She watched the man slowly, her finger still on the trigger of her revolver. "What do you want?" she asked.

"For you to sit down and have some tea," came the answer.

It was a true statement.

"See?" Caolan queried. "I passed the check, didn't I? It's all about interpretation. I'm sure you've been around interrogators enough to know how precise you need to phrase your inquiries."

Polina said nothing. She just stood there, watching him slowly sip the tea. The loudest sound she could hear was the ticking of the mechanical clock that hung on the kitchen wall.

"We're running out of time," Caolan said.

"Fine," Polina answered. She took a few hesitant steps towards the table before pulling out a chair and sitting down. Releasing the hammer, she returned the revolver to the coat pocket.

After all, the man before her could have overwhelmed her from the moment she woke up.

He really was here just to talk.

But… for what purpose?

"So," Polina said, tapping the table. "What in the Six Heavens are you here for?"

"Seven Heavens," the paladin said, wagging a finger.

"A religious debate?" Polina asked dryly. "Is that why you bribed my guard?"

Caolan chuckled and, for a moment, Polina had to tell herself to focus. The way he laughed, the way he smiled. It reminded her of her husband. She didn't know if she appreciated that or hated it.

"I'm here…" the paladin trailed off, as if unsure what to say. "I'm here, I think, to understand. I've been troubled by certain thoughts for many years, Miss Volkova. My mind's been tangled, and I've avoided trying to untangle it for a long time, fearful that if I go down a new path, I'll become trapped. Nevertheless, I've taken a few steps down that path already." Caolan raised a single finger. "The first was ensuring I would be on the delegation to the Federation. I wanted to witness the demeanour and nature of everyone involved in the recent conflict. The second…" Caolan slowly unravelled a second finger, "was crossing the threshold of your apartment. I wanted to talk to you, so I may better understand my own thoughts."

"And your third step?" Polina asked.

"Undecided," Caolan replied, sipping his tea. "I was hoping you could help me with that."

"How?"

"I want to talk about war."

Polina scoffed. "Which one? The one we just fought against Cascadia? Or the one you waged against us? Don't think I don't know your history, Caolan the Paladin. How many Federation warriors did you cut down for a sliver of territory? Caolan the Paladin. Caolan the Bloodstained. Caolan the Executioner." Polina spat out the titles Federation soldiers whispered to each other in hushed warnings. "You want to talk to me about war? You're experienced enough, by my reckoning."

"Hmm…" Caolan hummed, apparently unfazed by Polina's words. If anything, he seemed to absorb them without any sign of complaint. "The past is a funny thing, Miss Volkova. I won't hide from mine, and I won't deny those labels. I was passionate in my youth. Full of zeal and faith. And…" Caolan leaned forward slightly, rotating his hands to show Polina two empty palms. "While my faith remains, my zeal has faded. There is blood on my hands, yes. But how much? The first conflict between our nations saw more than fifty thousand soldiers fight. The second, a hundred thousand. The third—the one I fought in?" Caolan raised an eyebrow, hesitating for a second before saying, "Nearly three hundred thousand across both sides. Tens of thousands of casualties, Miss Volkova. Tens of thousands. Many of which I contributed to."

"...Your point?" Polina asked.

"When you've been around so much death, when you've caused so much death, it changes you, for the worse and for the better." Caolan sat back, running his finger around the rim of his cup. "When I first took a life, I felt nothing. I was well-trained and was numb to the immediate effect. Then, as I took more lives, I felt energetic, powerful. I was proud and arrogant, but it wasn't real. It was my mind doing what it could to distract me from the death I was dealing out. By the end of the war, I was numb again. That numbness has never truly left me, and I wondered if I would ever feel the zeal again, ever feel that overwhelming confidence in the path I was taking.

"I didn't fight in the Cascadian conflict, as I'm sure you and your Intelligence colleagues know, Miss Volkova. I did my part on the diplomatic side, of course. I justified myself with the argument that politics is where I could make a more effective change. Now the war is over, I look back on my justifications and realise I was, once again, protecting myself." Caolan sighed. "I feared that, deep down, if I fought another war, I would become something I never wanted to become. Something less than human."

"Why are you telling me this?" Polina asked. Her intermittent usage of her blessing convinced her that the paladin was sharing his true thoughts, but she couldn't yet understand why he'd chosen her as his confessional partner.

"I'm one man," Caolan replied. "One man, changed from one war. A war between our nations where three hundred thousand fought with blade, gun, and faith. Now, how big was the Cascadian conflict? It's no secret that at its height, there were more than a million soldiers on the battlefield. A million!" The paladin shook his head in disbelief. "Cascadia barely mobilised. Their true might is Centralis, where they have more than eighty million demons, faithful to their false demigod. And to win this war? Sure, the flames of industry burned hot, and the Terra Firmas were taxed and exploited, but at the end of it…" Caolan moved his hand slightly, making a show of raising a pinky finger off the table. "At the end, Centralis barely lifted its finger.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"I came to you to understand. To talk about war. But what I really want to talk about—what I really fear—is the next war, Miss Volkova." Caolan's eyes met hers, and for a moment, Polina saw a deep sadness entrenched within. "How big will the next war be? How many ships will meet the under-sky? How many soldiers will fall, their final resting place fields of mud and barbed wire? We'd be lucky to get away with a million, don't you think? What number will the survivors of the next conflict agree on? Five million? Ten? More?"

Polina tried to hold his gaze, but the intensity of the paladin's eyes forced her to look away. As she did, she couldn't deny the feeling creeping into the back of her mind. A feeling of abject horror, of destruction and chaos and screaming children. A sensation of a great, all-consuming war. Barely resisting a shudder, she forced herself to look at the paladin and ask, "Is that your desire? To avoid a greater conflict?"

"...Yes," Caolan nodded solemnly. "To do that, I need to travel this new path. This new path that has filled me with newfound zeal and confidence. To do that, I need to understand. Or, more specifically, I need to understand one person." As he finished speaking, Caolan gestured to her before taking another sip of his tea.

"You need to understand me?" she asked, tilting her head in confusion.

"Not quite," came the answer. "I need to understand someone else, someone you know. Someone you've unexpectedly become friends with during your brief trip to Kenhoro and the Wilderness north of Shimashina."

"Oh."

It was all Polina could say.

"I need to understand Amelia Thornheart," Caolan said, his voice growing excited. "I need to understand her, know her, and, if my plans work out, meet her in a cordial exchange of minds. I'm convinced who she is—what she is—is the key to preventing a global conflict on the scale that our minds cannot yet fathom."

Well. That explained why Caolan had come to her.

Polina took a breath. "It seems you've done your research on me."

"Mmm," Caolan hummed, putting down his cup. He reached into his coat pocket, pausing when Polina bristled. "Just documents, Miss Volkova." After a second, he resumed fishing out a thin stack of papers wrapped in a brown sleeve. "This is a small part of our file on you. Of course, by now you've figured out we know about your blessing, your experience in a field team, your capture, and your subsequent return." Caolan slowly placed down the folder. Both of them stared at it in contemplative silence.

"What's that for?" Polina eventually asked, throwing the paladin a questioning expression.

"Contingency," came the answer. "In case you don't answer my next question and subsequent offer."

"Sounds like a threat."

"There is no threat in that file," Caolan said. "Only sadness."

"That's no surprise to me," Polina said. "I've led a sad life."

"But you were happy once."

Polina's heart tugged at her.

"Not anymore," she whispered. "Now, ask me your question, Caolan the Paladin."

"I would like you to tell me everything you know about Amelia Thornheart, her personality, her quirks, the way she talks, the way she laughs. Everything and anything so I can be as prepared as possible for when I travel to Cascadia and meet her."

"I refuse," Polina said almost immediately. She expected the paladin to protest, but he simply stayed still, a complicated expression on his face. "What's your offer?" she asked.

"For you to abandon the Federation and come with me to Cascadia."

"Pfft!" Polina laughed. It was a laugh that was half humour and half disbelief. "You've gone mad, Caolan. I don't know what kind of woman you think I am"—she nodded towards the file—"but your information must be fabricated if you think I'm going to betray my country and flee to enemy territory with you, a man who is reviled amongst our people."

"Not only am I not mad," Caolan said in a low, quiet voice, "but I am utterly convinced you will change your mind. I… I apologise in advance, Miss Volkova." Caolan reached forward and slowly pushed the file towards Polina. "It brings me no joy to share this with you, and I assure you, despite my violent and bloodthirsty past, I feel nothing but regret at exposing you to what's in there. But"—Caolan's brilliant eyes met hers—"I assure you everything in that file is completely and utterly true."

A quick activation of her blessing verified the paladin's words.

Caolan stood up. "You speak of betraying your country, Miss Volkova. I admit I always found Federation concepts of betrayal and loyalty rather incongruent. On one hand, you act as a collective, responding like a hive mind to internal and external threats, but on the other hand, you…" He trailed off, sniffing and then rubbing his nose. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter. What matters is what's in that file."

"What's in the file?" Polina asked, her voice taking on a note of venom.

"The true meaning of betrayal, Miss Volkova." Caolan reached down and picked up his tea. Downing the remains of it in one gulp, he said, "Our delegation officially leaves tomorrow, but I won't be leaving with it. I'll be staying for a further three days before leaving on a transport—the Lady Hope. A fitting name, you'll find. I'll wait there for you, after which I'll travel to Cascadia with or without you."

"You're just going to waltz into demon territory?" Polina looked up at the man. "You, a famous Faithful of the Golden Cathedral?"

"Mmm…" Caolan hummed. "I have friends in high places. Getting a visa won't be a problem for me or for you. Although"—he looked her up and down—"you will need a disguise, considering how well your recent vacation went."

This damn man seemed so sure she'd be coming. What gave him such confidence?

"What's in the file?" Polina asked again, feeling a tinge of anxiety as she eyed the brown sleeve and the white papers within.

"That's for you to find out," Caolan said, his voice tense. "I suggest you turn on your stove. You'll want to burn it after reading, I'm sure. Heavens, you'll want to burn everything, and for that, I'm sorry, Miss Volkova." The paladin cast a glance at the mechanical clock. "It's about time your guard finishes his smoke break." Caolan walked to the kitchen's exit before pausing. "Three days, Miss Volkova. I'll be waiting. Thank you for the tea." Without any further words, he left her apartment.

For a long time, Polina sat there, looking at the file on her kitchen table.

Until her tea grew cold.

Until eventually, she reached forward.

Caolan stood on the deck of the Lady Hope, sniffing the cold winter air that suffocated the capital of the Federation. He wasn't a fan of the city. It was too grey and too still. There were millions of citizens living here, but it still seemed devoid of life. Everyone was just a little too serious, and their laughs a little too hollow. The small smidgen of colour offered by the Red Citadel and the few cathedrals dotted around the city only slightly improved its skyline.

He turned his head, looking down one end of the docks before looking down the other. There was a flurry of industry wherever he looked. Dozens of air-staging towers had ships coming into berth or making sail, carrying workers and supplies to and from the surrounding cities. Larger transports slowly settled into ground-based docking bays, their large underhull superstructures comfortably settling into holes so that their cargo bays were at ground level, allowing the port cranes to efficiently transfer material to waiting cargo trains.

He only watched with a half-baked interest. His attention was elsewhere, on the throngs of people walking into the docks from the various entrances. He was hoping and praying he'd see a certain individual coming his way.

"It's been three days, Caolan," a smooth voice spoke out. Caolan turned to see Bird—a Karligard native and longtime friend—carefully stepping out onto the deck. She managed to take two steps before slipping and cursing. "Fucking snow," she muttered, patting down her dark blond hair. "Even if the demons arrest us the moment we set foot in Cascadia, at least we might be somewhere warmer."

Caolan smiled. "That won't happen. I'm confident my friend will come through."

"Healing a demon once doesn't make you their friend."

"Well"—Caolan scratched his nose—"it does make them indebted to me, at least."

"If we're arrested, I'm going to shoot you," Bird said, coming up beside him on unsteady feet. "So you know."

"I look forward to it."

Bird scoffed. She, like Caolan, watched the crowds coming and going. After a minute, she said, "It's been three days. She's not going to come, Caolan."

"Have faith, my friend."

"Bah!" Bird clicked her tongue. "Where's faith ever gotten you, Caolan?"

"It's gotten me right here, right now," he answered. "With you and Al, going on another adventure." He cast her a side glance, giving her a sly smile. "Exactly where you like being, isn't that right?"

"I don't like being in Numengrad in this fucking cold," Bird responded, rubbing her arms.

"If you're so cold, use your aura," he said. He had to admit the winter was a bitter one, and even red aura wasn't sufficient to fend off the freezing temperatures. He himself maintained a gentle orange, which, along with his thick coat, regulated his temperature nicely.

"I'm not risking it," Bird said. "One might be okay, but if any Federation warrior picks up that this ship has multiple warriors, they'll investigate."

"You're awfully cautious."

"...If Federation guards come. I'm going to shoot you before they get us."

"I look forward to it."

"Shut up," Bird mumbled before turning away. "I'm going to go inside and make sure my arrows are perfect. If I need to Speak, I want—shit!" Caolan saw Bird slip once more, falling onto her backside in a flurry of blond hair and colourful curses. He laughed before offering her a hand, which she accepted before carefully making her way back inside the ship, grumbling all the while.

Caolan was alone for a few more minutes before his other expedition member joined him.

"Caolan," a masculine voice spoke out.

"Al," Caolan greeted the man as he came up beside him at the bow of the ship. Aldous was tall as he was, which in itself was a feat considering Caolan's communion caused him to grow half a foot. But Caolan's Murian friend wasn't just tall, he was broad, rivalling the thew of even the Southern demons.

"Bird's cursing you out down there, but I guess you can hear all that," Al said.

Caolan chuckled. "I'm ignoring it."

"A bit cold, isn't it?" the large man said, blowing out into the cold air. "Hey, Caolan. I have a question." Before Caolan could say anything, Al launched into his inquiry. "What if we get to Asamaywa and she isn't there?"

"Then we find out where she is and go there," Caolan answered.

"What if… What if we meet her and she doesn't like us? What if she attacks us? She's a Lord-Prospect now. Her allegiance is pretty much confirmed at this point."

"Don't worry about that."

"I'm still worrying, though."

Caolan turned to look at his friend, raising an eyebrow. "For such a large man, you worry an awful lot."

"One of us has to," Al complained. "Bird's too busy cursing every second word, and you're as cool as this weather right here. So, someone has to do all the worrying, don't they?" The Murian looked around for a moment before saying, "We need an icebreaker."

Caolan frowned. "We need a ten thousand tonne ship?"

"No, you fool," Al rolled his eyes. "An icebreaker. It's a Murian expression. Something you say when you meet someone to break the awkwardness and introduce yourself. Like a joke or a gift or—"

"Or someone to introduce you?" Caolan asked, interrupting his friend.

"Yes, but your Federation girlfriend doesn't seem to be coming, does she?"

"Don't call her that," Caolan said. "And don't jump to conclusions. Look," he nodded down on the docks, where a lone figure was making her way down the bays. "Our icebreaker."

"Oh?" Al peered at the crowd. "Oh? That's her? I'll… I'll go tell Bird." With that, he vanished into the depths of the ship.

Caolan patiently waited until Miss Volkova was standing before him. She looked like she hadn't slept in the three days since their discussion, the poor thing. While her body looked tired, her eyes were blazing with a ferocity that hadn't been there that night in her apartment.

Before Caolan could open his mouth, Polina thrust a piece of paper into his hands.

"Read it," she demanded.

Caolan looked at the paper. It was part of the Christdom file on her that he'd left in her hands. He'd advised that she burn the file after reading, but it seemed she'd kept this sheet—with the most painful information—for another purpose.

"Reading," Caolan affirmed.

And so he read it.

"Have you read all of it?" Polina asked after a quiet minute.

"...Yes," he answered honestly. Perhaps if he were using his full power, he would have been able to detect the Federation woman's blessing activating against his words, but as he was now, he couldn't sense a thing from her.

"Is everything on that paper, everything that you just read, is it true?"

"To the best of my knowledge," he answered. "It is true."

At his words, a tear ran down Polina's cheek. She wiped it away and shook her head. "I'm coming."

"You're coming?"

"With you. To Cascadia. To see… To see Amelia."

"...I'm sorry you had to find out this way, Miss Volkova." He handed her the paper back.

"Call me Polina."

"Of course, Polina," Caolan said, trying to reassure her with a smile. "Welcome aboard the Lady Hope. Now everything is set for this historic journey. But, before we go inside and warm up, may I ask how you got past your guard? You didn't harm him, did you?"

Polina scoffed and pushed past him. She opened the door to the ship's lower deck. Before stepping through, she turned and looked at Caolan.

"It's as you said," Polina muttered. "Federation ideology is notoriously fragile when it comes to gold."

With those final words, she stepped inside.

A few seconds later, Caolan followed.

Next stop, Asamaywa, he thought.

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