Helga and Jerome
Helga was conflicted, she was relieved to know who had Touched Alessandra and given the child her frankly ridiculous gifts, but she was worried about her future, knowing that Fate had plans for her. She was also relieved that one of the more unpredictable Gods, like Madness or Felix, hadn’t Touched her. She looked at Jerome to gauge his reaction, mildly surprised not to see any concern on his face, just relief. That’s odd, she thought; I would have expected a bit of anxiety about her prospects for a somewhat normal life to show. She was brought out of her reverie by Archbishop Octavia speaking.
“Why are you both relieved? Don’t you understand how dangerous this is for Alessandra? It’s been decades since the last Champion of Fate, and things didn’t end well for him. Dismemberment by a Chimera that is also a Necromancer is not a pleasant prospect. Being stitched together and repeatedly dismembered for years less so,” the Archbishop said, rising from Jerome’s chair and pacing around while waving her arms.
Jerome spoke before Helga could collect her thoughts.
“Archbishop…No, Octavia, please calm down,” Jerome said, rising from his seat, trying to get the Archbishop to seat herself. “I am concerned about this development, but not to the point of panic. I’m relieved that it was Fate, not Chaos or Strife, that had Touched her. With the Gifts that she has, can you imagine what either of them could do with her?”
That seemed to give the Archbishop pause, and she sat. Helga took the opportunity to poke her head out of the office and send for some tea, hoping that would help calm the Archbishop. Returning her attention to the current crisis, she added her two coppers.
“For myself, I was relieved that it wasn’t one of the unpredictable Gods like Madness or Felix. I could just imagine Felix trying to get her to collect all the stray cats in the Kingdom while killing all the dogs. I was starting to worry with the way she has been clinging to that stuffed cat. Madness probably would have driven her to forcefully convert all the bureaucrats to his Temple or some other such nonsense.” Answering a quiet knock on the door, she retrieved a tea cart from a servant. She added, “I can just imagine her going down in history as Alessandra, Cat Lady of Death, or Alessandra, Harbinger of Bureaucrats Doom, though, on further reflection, that might not be so bad. Now, let us all have some tea and talk about this calmly,” she said, waving her hand over the tea cart.
****
Jerome was only mildly surprised by the Archbishop’s revelation. The more time he had to think about Alessandra’s Mana levels and Gifts, the more he had been convinced that only one of the primary Gods would have been able to touch her, so one of the Aspects being the culprit was not that much of a surprise. He was not overly concerned about Alessandra being forced to do anything against her will. The Fates may be uncaring about mortal lives, but They only ever guided someone down their path; They never forced someone to follow a given path.
Sipping his tea, he nodded his appreciation to Helga and said, “Octavia, I can understand your shock at such a revelation, but is it really that big of a revelation? Can you tell me which God is both powerful and foolish enough to Bless a child with so much mana and so many Gifts? I’m no Cleric, but I can’t think of one. As Helga pointed out, Madness might, but he doesn’t have the raw power. Life and Family does have the power, so do Justice and McDonald, but they don’t have the insanity to do this to a child. While not technically insane, the Fates only care about the long term, so their doing this is believable, though not ideal from our point of view.”
The Archbishop took a long drink of her tea, emptying her cup. She then opened a lower drawer of the desk.
“AH HA!” she cried in triumph, pulling out a bottle of Mordan whiskey and pouring herself a healthy cup; said, “I figured you’d have something stronger than tea in here, Your Grace. Glad you didn’t disappoint.” Taking a drink, she almost coughed it up, clearly not used to the strong drink. “That’s strong stuff,” she said between coughs. Nonetheless, she took another swig. “I can’t say I disagree with your logic, Your Grace, but it’s still a shock when your Goddess tells you a child that was Fated to die is now the Champion of Fate. Give an ancient woman a few minutes of panic before you demand her to think logically, please.”
The Archbishop finished off the fine whiskey like it was cheap rotgut, and refilled her glass, though this time she cut it with tea. Jerome, noticing Helga was still processing, filled the awkward silence.
“A few things to unpack in that statement, Archbishop. One, you can’t be more than ten or fifteen years older than us, and we’re only forty-five. I know Life Mages have naturally long lives, but sixty is hardly ancient. Two, just what do you mean Alessandra was Fated to die? And three, if you must cut that fine drink, use water, not tea. Please,” he said, standing and mixing the Archbishop a proper drink. Nodding her thanks at the new drink, the Archbishop drained her ruined whiskey and grabbed the new glass.
“I am ancient, Your Grace. I turn one hundred and fifteen this year. (Hic) The Goddess occasionally grants a more extreme anti-aging blessing to her favorites. (Hic) The Fates, (Hic) and this never leave the three of us until Alessandra is ready (Hic) learn this,” Helga stood and started rubbing the Archbishops back to help her hiccups, “were trying to Touch someone else, but Chaos (Hic) managed to divert the Blessing. It fell on Alessandra, who was supposed to die before her Awa(Hic)kening.”
Helga started patting her back. “The Fates have decreed that you are to be her parents….BBBBUUUURRRPPPP….” Helga looked mildly disgusted at the burp, while Jerome was impressed that the woman could produce such a loud one. She continued as if nothing had happened while Helga retook her seat, “The Fates are not pleased about this whole situation but have no choice but to work with Alessandra’s ….unique…. set of Gifts to accomplish their goal of foiling whatever Chaos is up to. Both The Fates and Goddess of Life and Family want you to raise her to be as well-adjusted to society as possible. Good luck with that. I just want to go back to my Temple, get drunk, and forget about all this.” Waving her hand at Helga’s look of shock, she continued, “I won't do that last part, forget about all this, I mean. I will be drunk off my ass tonight, however. You will have the support of my Temple and the one in Halrond, of course, but after she learns to control her Death Aura and the adoption is finalized, I’m not sure what else we can offer.”
Jerome sat in his chair, absorbing the Archbishop’s words for a few minutes. Deciding that the Archbishop had the right idea, he grabbed a glass and poured himself a whiskey. Before he could sit down, Helga cleared her throat and pointed at a bottle of sherry when she had his attention. Handing her the bottle and a glass, he was shocked when she took a drink straight from the bottle before pouring herself a generous glass.
“I think that prodigious burp destroyed any sense of formality, dear,” Helga said in response to his raised eyebrow. “It’s not every day that you find out that the newest Champion of the Aspects is an accident, now is it?”
Downing a good portion of his drink, Jerome responded, “I guess your right. I owe you a bit of an apology Octavia. I thought you were overreacting to your news, but now that I have a fuller picture, I can see why you’re a bit shaken. I’ve had access to many of the records about Champions and those of people who have been Touched but never called as Champions, and I cannot recall any that were Touched by accident. Sure, a few of the Gods have been mistaken about how a person would react to being Touched, but a pure accident? If it has happened, it’s never been admitted.”
Taking a sip from her glass, the Archbishop added, “Nothing the Goddess said to me leads me to believe that The Fates messed up their spell. It seems that Chaos is to blame. What has shaken me most is that He was able to interfere with Their spell and what that means for His future plans. HELL’S that he even plans is a shock, I have been a priestess for almost a century, and all doctrine says He doesn't plan; that everything He does is random. He’s not evil, per se, just chaos incarnate. This revelation that He has plans makes me question that assumption.” Finishing her glass in one long drink, the Archbishop gasped, set her glass down, looked at the Ducal couple, and said, “Doctrinal shifts are hard to process Your Graces.” She then poured herself another, frowning at the almost empty bottle. Jerome placed a full decanter of a not-quite-as-expensive whiskey in front of her.
The three of them sat there for a few more minutes in silence, sipping their drinks, before Jerome spoke up again.
“I don’t see anything in what you told us that changes our immediate plans, Archbishop. Don’t misunderstand, it’s all important information to have, but the important in five to ten years, not act now important. I won’t lie and say I’m not happy to know that the adoption will be sorted out sooner rather than later, but you were right yesterday when you said that being her guardian versus being her parents right now wasn’t that big of a difference; to her or us.” The Archbishop nodded her head, acknowledging his statement, so he continued, “That being said, I will leave you to your religious crisis and track down my newest child and start forming a relationship with her. If you need more alcohol or anything stronger, just ask a servant. Will you be joining me, Helga?”
“Not right now, dear. I think some woman talk is in order,” Helga said.
Jerome nodded his acceptance of the dismissal, looked at his half-full glass, shrugged, and handed it to the Archbishop. She accepted it, though she did miss the first grab, and downed it.
Jerome made his way towards the private playroom that Alessandra was supposed to be in, currently thinking of what he could do with her. A walk in the gardens, perhaps? Maybe he would take her to the stables; little girls were supposed to love horses, weren’t they? Maybe steal some cookies or pies from the kitchens? Nothing could have prepared him for the chaos he walked into. Chaos Himself must have been proud.
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Alessandra, who was only wearing her undergarments, was currently throwing various toys at her Caretakes, using the toybox as cover. The Paladins sent to reinforce the Caretaker’s Life Aura’s were doubled over laughing at the scene. Jerome was taking it all in when the blond Caretaker, Suzzane if he remembered correctly, made a break for the girl, who squeaked, ducked behind the toybox, and rose from behind a fortress of cushions across the room. That was...concerning...to say the least.
The older Paladin noticed him, came to attention, and elbowed her partner.
“Would either of you care to explain why Alessandra is waging a war in her undergarments while apparently shadowalking?” he asked in a dangerously calm voice.
The younger Paladin paled at his tone, but the elder was made of sterner stuff and looked directly at him as she answered.
“Sir, the child needs a new dress after ripping the previous one during a….vigorous…play session. When Caretaker Suzzane brought the new one, Alessandra had already taken off the old one despite Caretaker Yvette’s objections. When Alessandra saw the new dress, she refused to put it on. Caretaker Suzzane ignored Caretaker Yvette’s objections to forcing her to wear it and insisted that Alessandra wear the dress. When she approached her with the dress, Alessandra hid behind Caretaker Yvette. When Caretaker Suzzane reached for Alessandra, she instinctually started shadowalking. Alessandra has been avoiding both Caretakers since then. Caretaker Suzzane still wants to force her into the new dress, while Caretaker Yvette wants her to get in the old dress, return to her chambers and pick one out herself. Alessandra fears a trick of some sort and currently wants nothing to do with either of them. Quite amusing, if I do say so myself, Your Grace. In answer to your next question about why I am allowing the shadowalking, my primary natural gift is Shadow Magic, and I am a certified instructor in its use, Your Grace. I have been using my Aura to stabilize her steps, so she is in danger of no more harm than if she fell while running regularly.”
Grunting his acknowledgment of the explanation, he watched the scene before him play out. The blond girl growled in frustration, while the brunette girl simply turned to Alessandra’s new position and tried to reason with her. After a few moments, he had to agree with the Paladin; it was amusing. It also had to stop before someone got hurt. He spread his Aura out across the room, got a grip on all three combatants, and placed a simple barrier around them, stopping them in their tracks. Walking over to Alessandra, he knelt in front of her. Noticing the look of fear on her face, he smiled at her.
“You’re not in any trouble, Alessandra. That may change if you can’t explain yourself. Now I need a promise from you that you won’t run off before I drop the barrier holding you in place. What you are doing bouncing from shadow to shadow is dangerous, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” Alessandra got a thoughtful expression and nodded her assent to his demand. Jerome dropped his barrier and held out his arms to her, motioning that he wanted to pick her up. She thought about it for a second before shaking her head and moving deeper into her cushion fortress. Sighing, he turned to the Caretakers, dropping the barrier on the brunette one. He addressed her, “Girl, please try to get Alessandra into one of the dresses, and in the future, all outfit changes must happen in the bathing room or her chamber, not a playroom.” The girl nodded, grabbed a ripped blue dress off the floor, made her way to the fortress, and started peace negotiations. Turning to the blond girl, Jerome addressed her less kindly. “Caretaker, and I use that term loosely; I have already had reports about you. Frankly, if one of my most trusted advisors hadn’t stuck her neck out for you, I would have already tossed you back to the Temple. I understand you have to be firm with your charges, but you do not seem to be making allowances for the unique circumstances that currently exist. Please explain what it would have hurt to simply bring a different dress or take Alessandra back to her chambers to choose a dress?”
To her credit, the Caretaker did not hesitate to explain herself.
“My Lord, there are times in a noble's life when she cannot choose her clothing for herself. I felt it best to teach this to Alessandra now,” she said.
“It is true that a noble cannot always choose how she or he dresses,” Jerome replied while walking toward the girl. “But you are forgetting three important things, so allow me to remind you of them.” Holding his hand inches from her face, he started counting off by raising a finger.
“One: until yesterday, Alessandra was a street mouse who was more or less feral; she is not ready for etiquette lessons.”
Raising a second finger.
“Two: her adoption is not finalized, so there is no guarantee that she will even be a noble.”
Raising a third finger and his voice.
“ YOU HAVE NOT BEEN GIVEN ANY INSTRUCTIONS ABOUT WHAT LESSONS TO EVEN TEACH HER! YOUR JOB RIGHT NOW IS TO KEEP HER OUT OF TROUBLE! THIS DOES NOT LOOK LIKE KEEPING HER OUT OF TROUBLE!”
Lowering his hand and barrier, he stepped back to the fortress of cushions and the now-dressed child. He saw that she was hiding behind the other Caretaker, worriedly peeking at him from behind her skirt.
“Alessandra, I’m sorry if I scared you when I was yelling just now. I’m not mad at you. Could you please tell me why you wouldn’t wear the dress that the Caretaker brought you?” he asked in his gentlest voice.
The child looked up at him with confusion on her face and calmly stated, “Because it’s bad; I don’t like green clothes; they’re bad. I didn't know I didn't like them until I saw that dress, though.”
Thinking about her answer, he was about to dismiss it when a brief passage he had read about the last Champion of Fate came to his mind. The record had mentioned that he couldn’t wear green. In the interview, he had stated that he didn’t know why but that the thought of wearing it made him feel ill.
“All right, I think that’s reasonable. You can’t be walking around in a ripped dress, so let’s go back to your room and find you a dress that’s not green. I am curious, though, how did you rip your dress?”
“Arabelle was beating me with her sword!” Alessandra declared with a beaming smile on her face. Arabelle groaned and covered her face.
****
After trying, and failing, to calm the Archbishop down, Helga was able to convince her to return to her Temple. After loading her into a carriage with a couple of her Paladins that were still hanging around, she decided that since her remaining plans for the day were shot that she might as well check on Jerome and Alessandra. Making her way toward the playroom assigned to Alessandra, she was surprised to find only a maid cleaning up the toys. The maid informed her that Jerome had taken her to her room to change. When she arrived at Alessandra’s room, she was unsurprised to find it empty as well. Making her way to the entrance to the private family area of the townhouse, she asked the Guard where Jerome and Alessandra were and was directed to the private practice fields. Now, why would they be there, she thought. If he was going to show off, she thought he would take her to watch him beat up…train…the guards.
When she arrived at the practice yard, she wasn’t sure if she should be horrified or pleased by what she saw. Jerome was currently letting Alessandra poke at him with a practice spear. This by itself wasn’t too bad. There was no way that the girl could seriously hurt him, even without his barriers. Knowing her husband, she was not surprised that playtime had turned into poke me with a stick either. No, what she wasn’t pleased about was Alessandra’s clothing. She was currently in a pair of heavily patched BOY'S trousers and a BOY’S shirt, with a padded gambeson over it, as well as a training helm. At least Jerome had the sense to make her wear protective headgear. She decided to be pleased by their interaction but horrified by how Jerome had dressed her. She also noted that the Paladins were running the Caretakers, who were also in men's trousers and shirts, thru self-defense drills. Not sure if that was the Paladins doing or Jerome’s, but she made a note to add it to their daily duties.
After watching for a few minutes, Helga couldn’t help but feel pride in how Jerome was sparing with Alessandra. He let her hit him just enough that she didn’t notice that he was letting her, that he only hit her back when she would know that he was ignoring an opening, was a thing of beauty. After a few more minutes, Helga saw that Alessandra was tiring, but she already knew that the girl was too stubborn to stop before she collapsed, so she would have to stop the spar. She grabbed a bow off the wall, drew it, formed a weak mana arrow, and shot Jerome in the chest.
Unsurprisingly Jerome had noticed her arrival and had encased Alessandra in a powerful barrier the instant Helga had released her arrow. Both Paladins also used a defensive spell to protect their charges. However, that was utterly unnecessary, her arrow was far too weak to hurt them on the other end of the field, but she was glad that they had noticed what she was doing and acted accordingly. She was pleased to see Jerome’s surprise when her arrow didn’t explode as they usually did. She did get the reaction out of Alessandra that she wanted as the girl’s jaw dropped in awe.
Alessandra turned back and forth between Helga’s face, her bow, and Jerome, clearly trying to comprehend why and how Helga had shot Jerome. After her third time thru the sequence, Jerome took pity on her and explained.
“It’s an old game Helga and I play, sweetie. She tries to shoot me with a weak mana arrow while I try to block. She’s not mad or trying to kill me,” he explained, ruffling her hair. “Let’s get a drink; since Helga has put a stop to our fun.” Turning to the Paladins and Caretakers, he yelled, “Why don’t you ladies get cleaned up? I think Duchess Helga has decided that sparring time is over.”
Smiling at the grin on both Jerome’s and Alessandra’s faces Helga couldn’t stop one from forming on her own.
“I am a little upset, but not surprised, that you did not bother to find proper female workout clothes for her or the Caretaker’s, Jerome,” Helga said, joining them at the water fountain. She started undoing the straps on Alessandra gambeson so the girl could properly cool off while Jerome took off her headgear. “I am sure that there is proper gear somewhere in storage; most girls in this family do some physical training. What lead to you hitting each other anyways?”
Alessandra, busy gulping down water, was all too happy to stop and explain.
“Mr. Jerome wanted to know why I was throwing stuff at Miss Yvette and Miss Suzzane in my undergarment’s an’ when he found out it was ‘cause I wouldn’t wear a green dress ‘cause I ripped my blue one, he wanted to know why the blue one was ripped so I told him Arabelle had ripped it when beating me with her sword an’ he said I need to learn how to not get beat!” she cheerfully said throwing everyone under the carriage of Helga’s wrath.