Adjucanis: Wardens
Night had fully swallowed Filistion by the time Adjucanis returned to his base. His Wardens occupied the hospital or their barracks as they recovered from their wounds. Priests gave last rites to the extinguished and interred them under blue flickering torchlight as Guarphaordz had done for centuries. As the shrouded fallen were lowered into graves, Adjucanis fell into his bunk to embrace his own blissful sleep.
The next day, as the Wardens assembled for their morning training—leaving gaps in their ranks to honor the dead—Adjucanis stood at rest in his superior’s office. Although he looked out the high window atop the commander's spire, he did not see the bejeweled golden domes of Filistion, the gilded series of walls, or the hazy desert beyond. He could only see the Titan of Ephraa, as the Wardens had started calling it, rising out of the ground.
The beast's roar still echoed in his ears, and the tremors still rattled his bones. Somewhere, gods willing somewhere far away, that vicious spawn of chaos was still roaming the land, destroying all before it.
He must extinguish it. Soon.
Cerburel sat the datapad on his desk, and the clink brought Adjucanis out of his thoughts. The Warden commander of Filistion had read the report twice by now, and having Adjucanis stand at parade rest while be browsed the document a third time was one of his preferred methods for making his subordinates squirm when he felt it was necessary. His sharp claws tapped against the black marble desktop shot through with gold veins.
Cerburel finally spoke, his voice deep and rolling as it flowed through the wide office.
“It seems as though you’ve discovered something new, Adjucanis. No Guarphaord in living memory has seen the sort of creature you describe.”
Adjucanis nodded once.
“Despite your losses, despite Ephraa being annihilated, I cannot fault you and your actions during the engagement. This was certainly outside anything Wardens have encountered and we are not trained to engage with such…monsters. I see no reason to discipline you for this, or to recommend any form of commendation. You did your duty well, as is expected. You are dismissed.”
Cerburel waved his hand at the arched doorway, but Adjucanis remained standing stock still. The Warden commander cocked a thin, furred eyebrow.
“Unless you have something else to add?”
“I intend to extinguish the Titan of Ephraa.”
The last syllable hung in the air before silence swallowed it whole. It went on for so long both Guarphaordz heard their own pulses tapping at their temples, and their ears buzzed as they tried to catch some small shred of sound.
“Why would you do this? How would you accomplish this?” Cerburel quietly asked.
“I have sworn an oath. I do not know how I will kill the beast, but I will wipe it from Sareste.”
Cerburel leaned forward. His eyes narrowed further as he considered the implications of a Warden taking an oath. Such things were hallowed, unbreakable once a Warden pledged his or her life to a cause. They would follow their course until succeeding or joining the extinguished in the afterlife.
"To whom did you swear this oath? Which extinguished comrade?”
“I swore it upon myself, commander.”
“Did you now?” Cerburel leaned back. “How convenient.”
“Sir?”
“That is hardly a truly binding oath, Adjucanis. You are a Warden of Filistion and your duty is to protect this city and all those under our hegemony while your life still burns brightly. Swearing an oath upon yourself does not bind you to another or override your commitment to me, your fellow Wardens, and the glowing embers of Filistion. You will remain here and continue to serve and protect. Now. Dismissed.”
Cerburel jabbed a long, sinewy finger at the door. Adjucanis did not move.
“The titan is a threat to all on Sareste. I have seen it firsthand and it must be extinguished and sent to the darkest reaches of afterlife.”
Unfolding from his chair, Cerburel looked Adjucanis squarely in the eyes.
“Is the titan an imminent threat to Filistion?”
“No, however, it—”
“Is the titan at our walls? Is it burrowing beneath our city? Is it flying overhead, blocking out the Orb itself?”
“It is not, yet—”
“Then it is not a threat to our city, or our people, and until Amigen's blessing returns to Ephraa, it is a wild beast—an unfortunate byproduct of our god's work. We shall eliminate it if it appears on our horizon. Until then we shall not seek further trouble. You. Are. Dismissed.”
Adjucanis silently turned and stalked toward the door. Palming the control panel to open it, he turned, calmly looking his superior in the eye.
“You lack vision, Cerburel. A threat is not merely what crosses our horizon.”
“You forget yourself, Adjucanis. I am your superior.”
“In Rank only. It is no contest on the field of battle, or above the neck.”
With that, Adjucanis let the door softly slide shut behind him. A moment later, he heard the sharp crack of a datapad flying against the door.