The Morningstar Brigade

Chapter 16

XVI

VIGILANT

Day One. Twelve Days Remain.

Morningstar Keep, Vigilant's Chambers

"I'll make sure that you're updated every half hour on the progress of Uriel's recovery, Lady Vigilant," Meddy said, walking alongside the blazing figure briskly to keep pace with her leader's commanding stride.

Vigilant stopped in front of the looming great doors to her war room. Shepherds were hurrying past carrying supplies and rapidly strapping armor to themselves. She placed an arm on the doctor's shoulder. "Thank you, Medala. Now go attend to your patients. While I appreciate your thoroughness, each moment that you spend with me is another moment that you might otherwise be saving the lives of our comrades. We owe them every opportunity, and I will not merely accept a blood tax for our survival."

"Agreed, Lady Vigilant. I'll get to work," Meddy replied, pushing her glasses up against her nose with determination and quickly making her way back towards the now-dilapidated medical facilities.

With the clicks of Meddy's sharp steps against the cool tile of the hallway fading into the distance, Lady Vigilant turned and pressed a hand against the wrought iron handle of her command center's imposing entryway. On each of the two doors was a painstakingly carved plate of ornate silverwood depicting phantasmal images of divine battles. Scaled, fanged beasts recoiled as warriors clothed in flames drove them back into the swirling abyss. Shimmering beings directed armies in massive conquests, all while an ineffable form above watched from on high. Perhaps even more awestriking than the indescribable way that the artist seemed to shape the uncompromising form of silver into any image as easily as one drawing their hand through water, however, was the vital force that seemed to breath life into the work itself. The very curves and constructions of its figures slowly shifting with the steady throb of the wood's heart. Vigilant slowly traced her finger along the figure of a girl ablaze, then pushed into the room. There, a man stood at sharp attention just beside Vigilant's desk, offering a small sort of salute as his commander closed the door behind herself.

"Lady Vigilant, I am sorry. I have failed you," the man said slowly, his voice rough, gravelly and now weighed with a dark tone of regret.

Vigilant sighed and made her way over to her desk, placing a comforting hand briefly on the back of her uninvited guest as she passed. Allowing herself a moment of exhaustion, the commander of the Morningstar Brigade took a weary seat in her chair. Her throne was itself a hybrid of wood, cloth and ironwork resembling a plume of angry flame. "Accuser, if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times: You may use my name. I keep no secrets from you. That is the nature of your position."

"No secrets, Lady Vigilant?" he asked, doing his best to resist the vein of facetiousness rising in his tone. The Accuser was the law of the Morningstar Brigade incarnate, dedicated to hunting down those within his own order that violated its commands. He was an imposing mixture of purity and punishment in his stark white trenchcoat and hat. The only decoration on his clothing was a bronze Morningstar emblem on his back. His black belt was tightly fastened around his waist, ensuring that his exacting outfit never sagged or slid. A spit-shined pair of black dress shoes completed his aesthetic of power from head to toe. The Accuser didn't even allow those looking upon him the comfort of a human face; instead, he wore a black mask that obscured nearly all of his physical features, save for the slight wrinkle of a smile when he caught his prey. Across the mask's eyeline was written the word "JUSTICE" in bold letters with uncompromising edges.

"Fine. Few secrets, Accuser. Very few," she replied flatly. Vigilant leaned forward in her chair, placing her elbows on the light-brown wood covered with various documents and arcane tomes. "To answer your question, Eden is not well. We've spent centuries preparing this final refuge for battle and yet our enemies seem to wield limitless resources. I have no illusions that this Faust figure is the true force behind this; there's another player orchestrating this." She turned to one pile of papers on her desk and flipped through them. "Field reports indicate a constant flow of reinforcements to the edges of our domain, and though our Shepherds and Fishers easily outclass their combatants on an individual level, enemy waves are unrelenting. Our opponent's ability to coordinate these Nephilim is not to be underestimated. I've deployed Saul and the rest of the Apostles in battlaions with all active Shepherds to serve as frontline commanders, but I fear even their power merely buys time, not victory." Vigilant placed a hand to her temple as white energy flickered through the ephemeral roots that still coiled through the halls of Morningstar Keep.