[M] Sanctuary: As Daylight Dies (IC)

[Maya]

A woman stood outside as the rain started to fall, tugging the brown hood of her cloak over head in an attempt to stay dry as people continued to crowd and offer their last respects during Templar Hill's funeral. Unlike everyone else, she did not go in. Didn't need to. The vessel may lay in state for all to see one last time; but, mourning his loss would not change the outcome.


Marcella was fairly pragmatic in the way she viewed the world. Life was seen in black or white. We live upon the earth for as long as we are allowed and we will take our exit when the time is right. That moment will usually not be of our own choosing. While she mourned the loss of her friends and fellow Templar's, their worldly shackles were now gone. They were no longer bound to the strife and evil being wrought upon the people of Sanctuary or the Borderfields. Instead of shedding tears of sadness, she would offer a silent prayer. "May your next journey be a happy one, my friends." Knowing their spirits were now free of the pain and sorrows of this world. For this reason, she did not go inside to take part in Templar Hill's funeral. His body may remain; but, he'd moved on to a better place. We should take comfort in that. Those mourning were in the first phases of acceptance. In time, she knew open wounds heal and life moves on. Isaac would not want his friends or fellow Templar's mired in endless sorrow. She would respect those wishes.

Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish; Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal.

[The Texan Queen]

The weather perfectly matched the depressing mood of today. The dark clouds loomed over the heads of those headed to the church to pay their respects, just barely holding off on letting the rain pour down on them. Selenada stood in front of a mirror and stared blankly at her own reflection. She did not want to go to the funeral, she never liked them, but she had to pay her respects to Isaac. She didn’t want to hear the sobs of those who lost a loved one or see their distraught faces, it was too much. Letting out a long sigh she reached for the black veil and lowered it over her face, grabbed her umbrella and made her way downstairs. Shaky hands reached for the large door handles of her church, do I really have the strength to do this? She shut her eyes tightly and reminded herself who this was for and forced herself to open the doors and step out into the gloomy weather.

She fell in line with the silent crowd of people making their way to the chapel, no one said a word and no one made eye contact with one another. The only sound heard outside was the crunch of the ground beneath their feet and the light patter of the first few raindrops falling from the sky. She had never heard Sanctuary this quiet, then again Sanctuary never felt a death like this before. The sea of black clothed people funneled into the church and everyone took their seats and remained silent.

The funeral was like every other one she had attended, the same sniffles filled the church, the speakers tried to get through their prepared speeches without breaking down and the heavy feeling was the same as all the others. But, when they brought out that empty casket it really hit Selenada. Isaac’s body was still out there, his killer was still out there, the Divine Three were still pushing to sweep this under the rug. The funeral was all for show on their end and they probably hoped this would be the last of the hybrid nonsense, but to Selenada and the rest of her squadron it wouldn’t be over until Isaac was brought to justice.

"Y-you c-c-can't... you c-can't l-leave, d-d-d-daddy.”

Selenada snapped out of her thoughts and her eyes immediately jumped forward to the front row where the cries of Isaac’s daughter were coming from. She went to stand and go comfort the girl but saw Kiera go to her side so she simply settled back into her seat and watched the two from a distance. It would be better for Kiera to help the girl, she knew and trusted her and since Selenada was a stranger more or less it would be harder to help. Hearing Kaitlyn openly express her sorrow hurt worse than any war injury she had ever received. The Trinity might want to forget about all this but that poor child will forever remember this…and that is why we must find the truth and stop that beast.

[Iwazuma]

This post comes thanks in part to RedKayne Co.

The fire failed to illuminate a single face that was quite distant from the rest of the group; Trest sat upon a stump as he watched the fire flicker in the darkness and begin to sputter from the onset of the rain. Much like his own spirits, the fire was beginning to fizzle, and he didn't know how much longer he could survive the deluge of disheartening moments that seemed to drown him. He knew Senior Templar Hills needed to be remembered, but he just couldn't bring himself to say anything for him, for anyone there or gone. He was alone, his arms holding his legs close to him as he tried to keep warm.

Why him? Why was he the one who had survived? The others who had perished before him had worked so hard to defend Sanctuary, to fight for what they knew was right. He had been goaded into the position by his father and, while he knew it was an honor to defend Sanctuary no matter how, the gruesome torture that he went through daily was more than he could bear. He had shed both friendly and enemy blood in his desperate struggle to keep alive; it hadn't even been to defend his home, merely to ensure he remained on this planet. Why had he chosen to do so? Why couldn't he have let himself be taken and end the torture he went through? He mused quietly, his eyes narrowing at the group around the fire.

Perhaps he felt it was his burden to bear, going through these trials and attacks just to ensure he could fight another day. But if that were the case, why question it now? What he did know is there was no turning back. He had made it this far, and now he had to make it a little bit further. He had chosen espionage....he was going to directly assist in murder. Assassinations. What was wrong with him? It had been a choice under pressure, and now he was going to be a piece in the takedown of some of Sanctuary's corrupt elites. It was the complete opposite of what he felt he could do. And yet...he knew it was where his skillset fit best. He could do it...he had to keep telling himself that lie or he might falter.

He groaned as a particularly large raindrop fell on his head, and he tugged the hood of his cloak up. He spied the others convened for their fallen friend and sighed weakly, joining them. "His sacrifice was for the good of everyone...now we can't let his death be meaningless. We need to solve the mysteries and put an end to them permanently." His voice was solemn and somber as he shut his eyes, not allowing himself to think about the circumstances. Shit had happened, and now it was his turn to deal it right back.

Tannhauser paid his respects, but he was finished reminiscing on the so-called good times of the former squadron. He wasn’t particularly close to any of those that passed. And even if they were – they were dead, and last time he checked, the dead don’t come back to life.
He turned away from the flickering flames, he started to get a minor headache – probably from the heat or something like that. Lately, they were occurring more frequently, but he probably blamed it on being one of the older templars. Nothing like a couple of Beatus pills can’t solve though…

Tannhauser began to walk from the area – briefly pausing next to the younger templars. He didn’t pay much heed to the younglings – usually they died within the first few months. He usually didn’t see a point in memorizing names of the younger squadron members.
He could only shake his head at the templar, though. He recognized the face… a coward’s face. One that always runs away from any obstacles, and one barely out of his diapers. How a person like this managed to make it to the squadron and survived this long, Tannhauser can only consider it a miracle from God.

Miracles don’t have the habit of lasting long, though.

“Best man up soon, kid,” Templar Tannhauser stated gruffly. “We got the shitty end of luck. If you don’t want to end up like those that got ripped apart by the Lycans… you best grow a pair of balls and spit at the face of Belial,” Matthew advised. It’s rather ironic that the older templar advised Trest to challenge the Daemon Lord of Despair… but the boy needs courage after all.

Trest fumed at Tannhauser's words. He knew he needed to step up if he wanted to survive. That was exactly what had been going through his head the last several days. But the way he said it was so...rude. Trest turned and gave his fellow Templar a straight right into his gut, his eyes showing a cold glare. "I am focusing on what I must do. Perhaps you should focus on your big mouth." Trest rarely spoke out of turn, which showed how deeply Tannhauser's comments irritated him. He was doing his best to not show fear in the face of what lied ahead...he didn't need an older man commenting on the obvious.

The older man would only laugh aloud at the younger templar’s outburst. Tannhauser could not deny he had a big mouth – occasionally it saves him, and other times it gets the older templar in trouble. Regardless, Trest’s conduct was laughable – it was like watching a little pup attempting to bark at a bulldog. It usually doesn’t end well with the pup.

“You’re a funny kid. Just remember, though, actions speak louder than words. We all want to see more action from you, boy.”

Tannhauser walked away, not bothering to bother with Trest's response - it would only be more barking noise.

After walking a long distance away from the campfire, away from prying ears or eyes… Tannhauser suddenly lurched. He coughed heavily into his hand, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. His knees caved in and he struggled to regain his breath. After a quick couple of minutes, Matthew regained his composure and stood back up. However, he stared wide-eyed at his hand… which was covered with his blood.

“What… what the fuck?”

[RedKayne]

---

The Divine King stood on top of the balcony of his high castle, overlooking the city of Sanctuary. The rain grew heavier, soaking his noble attire - very much like the same day of the last Pilgrimage's brief rebellion. Instead of watching the process of Darkwood's templars gathering up the 'unworthy' people of Sanctuary - he instead watched the chapel hosting the funeral service of a man many would deem a 'hero.'

Matthias himself remembered the days when the city celebrated his triumphant return as a hero from the Borderfields, where he personally lead the efforts of ending the last Plague. Now, it seems like a distant memory where the citizens of Sanctuary would view their Divine King as a 'Savior' instead of a "Tyrant.'

He sighed heavily, "Indeed, it is a very sad day," he muttered under his breath. "God... watch over that young man's soul..."

"I'm surprised you still have faith that your God hasn't abandoned you, Mathias," a low-gruff voice spoke behind the Divine King. The sound of metallic footsteps approached, before the Masked Inquisitor stepped beside the monarch. The black slit of the Inquisitor's helmet stared straightforward towards the horizon, "Aren't I living proof that He has abandoned us all?"

---

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," Grand Master Raizel stated in the confenssion box. He held a smirk on his face, "For the assassins never rest with their wicked deeds."

"No, we shall not," an elderly voice chuckled from the stall beside Raizel's own. "I have a new assignment for you, Grand Master."

The assassin nodded his head, "At your command, High Lord," Raizel answered to the leader of the Assassin's Guild.

"The Masked Inquisitor is the main obstacle for sabotaging the next Pilgrimage. Nobody has ever succeeded in learning his identity - any assassins that are sent to spy on him always... disappear."

"Do you expect me to succeed where others have failed, High Lord?" The Grand Master raised his eyebrows, wondering if his master had confidence in his own capabilities.

"No," the elderly man answered solemnly. "But we finally got a name. I want you to look into Sanctuary's records and see what you can dig up on his past. If we know this mysterious warrior's history, we may discover his weaknesses."

"Interesting..." Grand Master Raizel stated, but also disappointed that his master underestimated his abilities - he wouldn't disappear like any other assassin. After all, Raizel has been playing the assassin's game much longer than the majority of the Guild members. "What is the name, then, High Lord?"

---

"Faith is a funny thing, Argon," Divine King Mathias stated. The King did not glance at the warrior but instead kept his stoic eyes on the chapel instead.

"Indeed it is," the Masked Inqusitor, Argon, stated casually. "But I hope you're well aware by now... but faith can lead a blind man astray... and eventually to his downfall," Argon's last few words came across darkly. "I personally learned that lesson a long time ago."

"At this point, I already have fell from God's grace, Argon," Mathias retorted back with a sidewards glance. "Regardless, I will do everything in my power to protect the city of Sanctuary. When the time comes... I will answer for my sins," the Divine King stated with finality, accepting whatever destiny lies before him.

"Well, if that's the case, make sure that the next Pilgrimage runs smoothly. The three militants were just the beginning... I'm sure that the templars out in the Borderfields will cause more trouble," Argon then turned around, before walking away from balcony. He briefly paused in his steps before exiting, before finishing his meeting with Mathias with a final few words.

"Best get ready for war, Mathias... it will be a bloodbath."

---

The chapel services ended, and a lone figure stood before the tombstone of Inquisitor Isaac Hills. The crowd dispersed long ago, and the older man needed some privacy anyways.

The sky continued to shed tears - as if mourning for the death of his nephew. Archon Balthazar Hills stared down at the tombstone, which was engraved next to Isaac's late wife - Elena.

"Now, what did I tell you?" Balthazar muttered before sighing heavily.

"I warned you before... the life of a templar is not a safe one. You would regret that decision. You would find yourself dead before you truly fulfilled your life. What did I tell you... and you never listened..."

The rain practically hid the tears rolling down the cheeks of the Archon, as he began to mourn for his nephew. He is often perceived as a cold-hearted man... but he wanted what was best for his family.

"I'm so sorry... Sarah," Balthazar whispered his deceased sister's name. His knees gave way to the ground, splashing against the mud. The man silently cried next to the tombstone, feeling the weight of guilt against his shoulders. "I couldn't protect him... I tried... but I failed..."

He vainly tried to wipe away his tears with his soaked sleeves, but it did not help whatsover.

Other than me... Kaitlyn is the only one left of our bloodline.

I must do everything in my power to protect her... and steer her away from the dangers of the Templar Order.

---

"And it was told, and it was renowned by many..."

Argon's metallic greaves echoed in the dark corridor as he walked across it. As always - the Masked Inquisitor carried a large two-handed sword which was sheathed against his back.

"That three eyes watched constant, on the dried field of the lost gods."

He quietly recited a verse from Requiem, which he memorized by heart... long ago.

"And five enemies of hell, sprout from the hearts of the most holy..."

He opened a door, finding himself in his living quarters. He walked across the room, finding a large mirror which reflected his intimidating image. The black slits of his helmet gazed back at him, Argon's eyes well-hidden beneath the darkness.

"For dark... is lusting for light."

"You will learn... young templars... you will learn soon."

The Masked Inquisitor reached for his helmet, slowly removing it - before two golden-eyes stared back at his true identity.