Extra 9: The Blame

As he found himself so often doing, Chray was sitting in the corner of the Gitririag office, waiting.

Officially, no story had yet been released to the rest of the keepers, yet it was obvious by the way that every entering mercenary, no matter their place on the pecking order, was staring Chray down that the rumours had gotten around.

Chray would have been concerned about them blowing things out of proportion, but considering the size of the incident that would be difficult for even the most excessive of their compatriots.

A wanted criminal in a costume had foiled a rebel suppression attempt, outrun the second highest commander in the city, broke into Chray’s home, then, with the help of an unknown monster, taken that same commander to within an inch of her life.

It did not help at all that she was the sister of the most important man in the city and was likely to take command of the office once the current administrator retired.

Now she would likely never walk again.

Chray’s headache pulsed with fervour, the whole situation feeling as though it existed just to cause the him pain.

At least the other keepers were leaving him alone, if only because they were waiting until the administrator got to him first.

“Chray, he will see you now.” the receptionist announced, eliciting a round of snickers from the other mercenaries in the room.

Pushing away his hesitation, Chray followed the receptionist’s directions, finding himself out the front of a imposing set of rich wooden doors.

The feel of the door told Chray all they needed to know about the man inside, imported wood inlaid with what he guessed to be gemstones, carved with scenes glorifying the many “oppressions” of the Earliag, a direct challenge to those who resisted the status quo.

He had heard rumours that the doorhandles were inlaid with star-silver, that they had been stolen three times and three people had been executed because of it, now that Chray had his hands on the cold metal and felt the familiar tingle on his fingers, he didn't doubt the stories for a second.

The blind man knocked and was invited in by a refined, even benevolent voice.

Chray walked in and found a chair, activating his blessing to get a idea of what the man in front of him looked like.

The administrator was a small man, yet what he lacked in height he made up for in presence, his very stature in his chair demanding a respect even Chray had a hard time denying.

His body was a mix of lean muscle and tattoos contrasting his white skin, all running alongside veins of andromio shining even in the orange glow of Chray’s blessing.

With that amount of enhancement, Chray had no doubt that the man would take him down in seconds, despite his age.

“Chray, I have heard a lot about you, how are you?”, the administrator said, no hint of his rumoured cruelty present in his voice.

“Fine.” Chray replied, unwilling to waste time with pleasantries.

“A man of business, I see, then I won't waste your time. I have called you here to address your recent failure regarding my prodigy.”

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The mercenary stiffened a little and held back the urge to sigh, he knew exactly what was coming.

“You see, I have been training Clandrio to take my role since she was a little girl, and despite her temper, she took to her studies wonderfully, impressing me at every turn.” the manager began, getting out of his seat and walking over to a bookshelf on one side of the room.

“In all that time, she only dared to upset me once, do you know why that is?”

Chray remained silent, disliking the direction of the conversation more with every word said.

A sudden malice entered the administrator's voice, replacing the kind charade, “It is because I believe that discipline is the greatest teacher, and that every mistake must have consequences, otherwise no learning will be done.”

“My precious Clandrio will never leave her bed again, and so I consider the price for her mistake already paid, and yet you, who are equally to blame for twenty years of wasted teaching, sit here unpunished.”

Very suddenly, Chray realised that the administrator had manoeuvred himself between him and the door without Chray realising, making escape all but impossible.

The smaller man now seemed triple his size as he let out a grim laugh, “And to think, I intended to retire in just a few weeks, now I will have to spend at least another five years to train someone even half competent to replace me.”

It was at this time that the blind man remembered he had a voice, making to object to the claim before being harshly interrupted.

“Silence, I don't care for your excuses, you will pay like anyone else, the blame for the escaped target and failed mission rests on your shoulders.”

It was only now that Chray realised what this was all about.

This whole meeting wasn't about who deserved what, it was who was going to be the scapegoat for the whole incident.

And that person was Chray.

“Now, doubtless you deserve death for what you have done, the empire knows I have killed for less, but despite your incompetence, your blessing is a very valuable asset and it would be a waste to destroy it with you.”

“And so, since I am a fair man, I am going to offer you a chance.”

“This disguised figure, this Golem, was your mark and so you are going to finish what you started and track them down, and if a single person sees you anywhere near civilisation before the fugitive’s head is on my desk…”

The administrator didn't finish their sentence, he didn't have to, Chray got the point loud and clear.

The pressure the manager had been exerting died instantly as a gentle smile crossed his face, an image of companionship and kindness.

“It seems we understand each other, well then, I wont hold you up, we wouldn't want you to stick around for too long.”

With a final farewell, the administrator guided Chray out the door and left him sweating in the foyer.

Chray prided himself on his ability to stay cool, it was one of the few advantages he had over his peers, yet despite his years of training the manager had gotten to him.

He collected himself as best he could, making his way back out into the main room and ignoring the calls and jeers of his companions.

In truth, he hardly even noticed them, his mind was far too focused on what he was going to do.

Chray didn't have a choice, he had to follow the administrators orders and get out of the city as quickly as possible, both because of the older man’s threat and because Chray knew that by the time the sun rose once again, he would be the poster boy for the Keeper's biggest failure for ten years.

He stepped out into the hot daylight, instantly surrounded by people on all sides still lingering from the festival, day and night meant little to the city dwellers, in both cases the world was lit and outside thoroughly inaccessible.

Following a route long memorised, he began to weave through the streets and back alleys of the citadel, heightened senses more than adequate to make up for a measly lack of sight.

The true question on Chray’s mind was not about whether he should leave, but where.

Should he follow the Golem underground, hope to catch a dying trail in an endless ruin and hope they did not go somewhere he could not follow, or should he head out into the desert and hope the Golem pops up somewhere nearby.

Or he could just run from the situation entirely, the Keepers would likely stop looking if he went to a different country.

Chray let out a grim laugh in his head, he had made a oath on Orsha, that simply wasn't a option.

“To the ruins it is then.” he decided.

As the mercenary opened the door to his small home and the mess that awaited him, he let out a long sigh.

At least the broken window could wait till he got back.