It is early afternoon when they land at Denver International. A cool day, and mostly clear.
Chauncey is waiting for Avery, waiting for her right at the base of the deplaning stairs, even if she neglected to specify that he should receive her. He nods hello to Bright Spear, and then he sweeps the back door of the car open for them.
There is bottled water in the back for Avery and her young friend. Snacks, too, which Bright Spear tears through with the vim and vigor of a growing cub. They do not delay. Though Bright Spear perhaps would not mind seeing more of The World Outside The Caern, their path to Forgotten Questions is the shortest, most direct one possible. It does not take long at all before they are getting out of the car, walking through the wilderness. It does not take long before they are crossing into the Bawn.
Thoughtlessly and instinctively, Bright Spear takes the lead then. Avery outranks her, but she is, as she so bravely stated in that hellish elevator ride, a Guardian of the Caern. She leads the Philodox down hidden paths Avery would not have thought to take. They reach the challenge circle before long.
"I'll go find Anvil of Justice-rhya," Bright Spear says,
and drops into her small, lithe, russet-furred wolf-shape. She darts away, leaving Avery to her thoughts.
--
Ten, fifteen minutes later, she is back. Girl-formed again, lingering in Anvil's shadow, she gives Avery a surreptitious little smile before stopping at the edge of the challenge circle.
Anvil of Justice crosses that line. He looks at Avery expectantly.
"Well, Reverence of Dawn? What did you find, and what have you done?"
-justice-[okay, NOT IN WOLF-SHAPE! broad daylight!]
Reverence of DawnThere is a part of Avery that is very young inside when she disembarks from the plane and sees Chauncey there, standing beside some gleaming black car that belongs to the family and not specifically to Avery. It makes her think of her family, of all those servants living just across University Boulevard who are also sort of family, of her late mother, of Chauncey having always been there, as long as she can remember, of being such a fixture in so many memories.
Like being there, walking with her father out into the wild she had run to, looking for her just as intently, wrapping both she and her father in a large blanket when her father lifted her from the ground and took her, sobbing, back home so the family doctor could re-hydrate her and assure them she was not injured terribly from her running-away. She recalls being so embarrassed after that, particularly with Chauncey, and how he never paid it any mind, and never treated her any differently, and how childishly grateful she was to him for letting her pretend that it never happened, how foolishly and immaturely blind she was to the fact of how closely he watched her whenever he drove her somewhere after that.
There is a part of her that wants to run over to him and throw her arms around him and just cry on his chest and tell him she's just really tired, but even at her worst -- and she is far from her worst right now -- Avery has never done such a thing. She doesn't now. She merely smiles, walking over to him, clasping his hand briefly, telling him how good it is to see him. Then she gets into the back seat, lets her hair down, combs it, then puts it back into a much smoother bun while Chauncey drives them towards Roxborough.
She daubs a just-a-shade-darker-than-natural color onto her lips, presses them together, blots, and leans back while Bright Spear devours the snacks. Avery just smiles dimly to herself, fond of the girl.
--
They do not, when they drive into Roxborough State Park, have to pay the park fee. They are known, and they are waved in. They park, and Chauncey stays with the car while Avery and Bright Spear get out. The former is not exactly wearing hiking clothes, and gets a few looks, but she would get looks anyway. They start walking on one of the trails, but somewhere along it they stop running into families, stop skirting by couples or people with cameras, and sooner or later
they abandon the trails altogether, and when they come near some of the Fountain formations, shaded between enormous slabs of stone, Bright Spear takes off to go find Anvil of Justice. Avery takes a deep breath. She exhales slowly, and she does this several more times before her elder appears again to her.
The circle is what they make it. Between the two of them, it is here and now. It needs no line, for they will not be thrown down in combat and they will not be interrupted.
He asks his question.
"I found him, Rhya," she says. "I captured him. I learned the nature of his crime. I rendered judgement upon him. And I carried it through."
--
And thus, she tells him. She tells him about her conversations with the packmates of Midsummer's Shadow, and the near-lie that their Beta told him, the Alpha's anger, the Gamma-wolf's belief in the worst. She tells him about talking to Iron Tooth, and in detail: the things that were implied, and occasionally she uses the exact wording. She tells Anvil of Justice that the bracelet he gave her to track Ilyana's 'remains' down had a spiritual resonance, and that though she saw no storm crow trailing them, she believed they were being tracked.
She tells him that the questing stone took them to Fort Garland and that is where they found Ilyana, alive and... well as one might expect. About the truths Ilyana told her. Avery tells him about her oath to the kinswoman. She does not hold these things back: she is not ashamed, and she does not want to earn her rank by careful omission. She would rather fail. Then the gun as a tracking focus, and the three women finding themselves in Vegas hours upon hours later.
Avery tells Anvil of Justice that her quarry tried to run, but stopped when commanded. She tells him of his paranoia, and of all the things he believed to be true. She recounts to him her judgement. The guilt of Midsummer's Shadow.
The punishment she chose.
The punishment she laid down.
--
That is where she ends. With casting Stray down to cubhood, to exile, to ostracism. Of Ilyana and Iron Tooth, she says no more.
"And now," she says at the end, "have done all these things, I return to you."
-justice-Anvil of Justice listens.
He listens carefully, with sun-squinted eyes and a cocked head. He pays attention to everything, every detail of conversation, every nuance related by Avery, but in particular he pays attention when she speaks of Midsummer's Shadow. His capture. His judgment. His punishment.
That is where she ends. With Stray; with exile and ostracism. Anvil of Justice is frowning mildly. He lifts a hand, scratches the angle of his jaw.
"And what of the kinswoman Ilyana?" he asks. "Will you return her to her rightful mate?"
Reverence of DawnAvery is quiet a moment.
"When I left Stray behind, I met Iron Tooth-rhya in the lobby. We did not speak. We rode the elevator back up together. Bright Spear-yuf, perhaps sensing his intention given what he said before about flaying his target alive, spoke to him, saying that people would find out.
"Iron Tooth-rhya was unmoved. He thanked me for making it much easier on him to for putting a tribeless, nameless cub to death. I told him what I had learned: that his mate left him of her own will because of his treatment of her. I told him that his treatment of her was in breach of the Litany, for he has not shown respect to those beneath him. I told him what Ilyana had said to me: that she hates him enough that she would rather die than return to him."
Avery realizes as she speaks what this could mean. All the things it could mean. But this is who she is.
"I told him that he did not find her when she was gone, and did not even look for her. Taking him at his word from my first conversation with him, he believed her to be dead and did not immediately seek the garou he thought responsible, and I told him how strange that seemed, and would seem to the septs. I told him that if he murdered Stray, it would be known that he killed him despite that he was already punished, and again reminded him that Stray took no action that coerced or forced Ilyana to do anything she did not want to do, nor did he trespass with her physically."
Avery blinks slowly, trying not to show her weariness. "I warned him, as is the duty of my moon, that should Stray show his throat, Iron Tooth-rhya would be in breach of the Litany again if he tore it out, and merely... shamed, if Stray fought back or simply let himself be killed. I was going with Iron Tooth-rhya to stand as a witness to any of these outcomes, but that by my own judgement upon the criminal, I could not and would not aid him.
"Iron Tooth-rhya did not leave the elevator. We began to return to the lobby. He asked me how I would tell anyone these things if he tore my throat out. He did not follow through. He suggested that I not repeat what I know, called Ilyana a bitch, implied that he continues to own her, and told me to 'let her stay dead' and to allow others to believe that Stray was punished and exiled for murder, and not his true crimes. He told me," Avery says, still level, "to speak nothing, and Ilyana would live. He told me that if I spoke the truth, that his mate would be returned to him."
Avery already told Anvil of Justice about her oath. She does not repeat it. She is quiet a moment, then takes a deep breath.
"Upon returning to Ilyana with Bright Spear, I arranged for return transportation for Bright Spear and myself to Denver. Outside of the airport I gave Ilyana my car and I believe my steward has already wired a sum of money to the kinswoman. She has contact information for my steward, and the title and registration will be legally passed to her. Should anyone attempt to return her to Iron Tooth-rhya, I will fulfill my oath to her, even should it mean my name and my life."
A heartbeat.
"And hers."
Another heartbeat.
"So no, Rhya. I will not. She left him, and he has not attempted to reclaim her. But all of that is, of course, outside the bounds of the challenge I was given."
-justice-"It was," Anvil of Justice observes, "but then the matters we preside over are rarely so neat and precise as to fit into tidy little boxes.
"That is a strange argument you use," he adds. "I own a klaive. It was crafted by my father's father's mother. It has been in my family for many years. If I were to lose it tomorrow and believe it destroyed, I would grieve, but I may not search overmuch for it. But if it were found again, it would still be my klaive. Dishonor would come upon he who took it for himself without a word to me.
"So: the kinswoman Ilyana is Iron Tooth's mate. He lost her, he did not look for her, but now she has been found. By the laws of our Nation she is still his mate. She is still claimed by him. One might say she still belongs to him.
"Yet you did not return her to his keeping. So I ask you again: why?"
Reverence of Dawn"A kinswoman is not a klaive," Avery says, and there is a sharpness and a suddeness and rage to her tone that erupts from her, around her, like a white corona lifting from her skin, arcing like electricity in her voice.
"Ilyana was not taken. She left. She was downstairs in a car when Iron Tooth-rhya was spewing about how she should stay dead, and he did not go to take her back. It is far from my duty to drag her back by the hair to him when he is the one who drove her away, lost her, and does not care enough to go seeking her even when he discovers that she lives." Avery pauses a moment, but her rage is high and her will is low and she is not desperate enough to call on Falcon's strength to replenish it. She reaches for control.
"Rhya, I told you what he said. He no longer wants her; has not wanted her for some time. Hates her as much as she hates him. He does not respect the honor of having a mate. He has broken the Litany by treating one given to his protection with abuse and violence greater than kinfolk are created to bear. The laws of our nation do not speak of mateship between kin and garou. The only way they can be applied to that end is so equate kinfolk -- those who bore us, those who love us, protect us, help us, parent our children, are our children -- with territory. With klaives, burrows, pack protectorates, or a favorite set of dedicated clothes."
That reach for control is failing. But she is, to be fair: willing to let it fail. She is seething. There is fire in her eyes.
"I told Ilyana on my name and my honor, which is greater and deeper than any renown the nation can lay upon me, that I would die before delivering her to such a grotesque, unholy arrangement as her 'mateship' to Iron Tooth-rhya. What they both spoke of to me, in all truth of their hearts, is no better than the violence and the degradation that is so easily spurred on in humanity by the Wyrm. In many ways I believe it is worse to see it among Gaia's chosen: kinfolk as property and chattel, blind eyes turned to abuse of those weaker than us, the twisting of a law -- meant to keep our rage in check, to save us from corruption -- into whatever is most convenient for us at the time."
Her nostrils flare as she exhales. Her head shakes. "Whatever my name or status, whether I am a criminal or a cub or ostracized like Stray, at the end of the night I have to live with myself. I will not be a party to the rape, abuse, and eventual murder of a kinfolk, no matter what their tribe. And certainly not in the name of a law that has been so warped as to leave its spirit unrecognizable."
-justice-Avery is angry. Avery is furious; she is sharp and her words come sudden and her control is failing. She is willing to let it fail.
Anvil: he is impassive. He is blank-faced, his eyes intent but shuttered. He listens, he listens, he listens. And in the end:
"You are, I think, weaving so many words and explanations and justifications that it begins to cloud the arrow of your thought. It is not necessary to explain the mitigating or aggravating circumstances, the factors that swayed your decision. It is not necessary to express your outrage. It is not necessary to cite those vows you made, to repeat what was said to you, to endorse what you said to others; all these things, ultimately, stem from that core reason I have yet to hear expressed clearly from you.
"You looked upon this kinswoman and consciously, deliberately, unwaveringly made the decision not to return her to Iron Tooth. You did not argue with yourself, I think. You certainly made no vows before you had already made your decision. So what I want, Reverence of Dawn, is to hear you crystallize that decision for yourself. I want to hear you say aloud,
"in one sentence,
"why."
Reverence of DawnIn one sentence.
In one sentence, Avery's voice is low, and shaking, and... passionate.
But she does not even have to think before she answers.
"It would be wrong."
-justice-That one sentence.
That one sentence: it hangs in the air. It quivers there, like the last note of some catastrophic symphony, in that instant before the applause begins.
Then Anvil of Justice repeats it. Reinforces it:
"Because it would be wrong."
--
The Adren exhales. Some rigidity goes out of his spine. A sense of tension leaving the air.
His turn to talk, then:
"Law and justice, Reverence of Dawn, are not one and the same. There are, amongst those Philodoxes of the Nation interested in such intellectual discourse, two schools of thought.
"There are those who argue law must stand above justice, for law is absolute, law is universal, law is the one constant from pack to pack, sept to sept, protectorate to protectorate. Even when the consequence of law is unjust, it must be upheld, for law is a rigid and brittle thing that cannot bend without breaking.
"And there are those who argue that justice must stand above law, for justice is the sun which casts law as its shadow. Law exists merely to protect justice, and if keeping the law means subjecting one to injustice, then law may be broken. Law must be broken.
"By my name, I expect you can surmise which camp I belong to. By your answer, I believe I know which tenet, if any, you would subscribe to. However, a good Philodox knows that there is no single right answer to that debate. In fact, perhaps it is necessary to have that very debate, each and every time law and justice stand at odds.
"And in a way, debate and duality is the very core of our auspice. Half light, half dark: we are the line that separates truth from lie, right from wrong, retribution from forgiveness. We must always see both sides of every dispute, every crime, every punishment. We must debate ourselves ceaselessly to arrive at that one single judgment that pares duality into singularity. We must, in the end, always cleave to the path of honor."
A pause.
"Forgive me, Reverence of Dawn. I am philosophizing. I am an Adren, a teacher to the Nation, and sometimes the urge to lecture is irrepressible."
--
"To the matter at hand, then.
"Reverence of Dawn, from the moment you undertook this quest you proved yourself clever and resourceful. I doubt many other Cliaths would have thought to ask the masters of their challenge the very question that had been posed to them. I could see that you were quite pleased with your own wit -- and I must concede, you had a right to be.
"In your quest to find the whereabouts of Stray, you were intelligent and creative. You were savvy in your use of what resources were available to you. You negotiated the uneasy relationships set before you, and there were many uneasy relationships. You avoided, on multiple instances, outright confrontation which would have ultimately proven detrimental to your question.
"In your quest to discover the true nature of Stray's crime, you have excelled my expectations and hopes. I had my suspicions regarding the prevailing version of events, but the way you pared away the chaff and revealed the truth was genuinely admirable. You were dedicated, determined, and relentlessly thorough. You left no stone unturned, no voice unheard. By the time you assembled your judgment, you were fully armed with the truth. Well done, Reverence of Dawn.
"The punishment you ultimately meted out to Stray, then. Some might find it a touch harsh to strip a Garou of name and rank, to exile him from the Nation until he has once again earned the right to rejoin it. Others might find it merciful to give him, in essence, a new life and a fresh start. To let him learn again those lessons of loyalty, of courage, of wisdom and of respect that he should have learned as a cub. In my view, your punishment was as fair as your judgment was sound. It fits the crime. It fits the criminal.
"Which brings us to the final point. The relationship between Stray, Iron Tooth and the kinswoman Ilyana was complex at best; outright treacherous at worst. There were moments you could have strayed yourself. Lost your moral compass; given up your honor. Lost your very life. Yet you navigated that spider's web with as much skill and aplomb as could be expected of a Garou of your experience -- or, indeed, a Garou of greater rank and experience. You have survived. You have passed fair judgment. And you have, I am proud to see, refused to bow to the pressures and threats placed upon you by a Garou of far greater rank. You have refused to relinquish either Ilyana or Stray into his cruel custody.
"You are courageous, Reverence of Dawn. You are sharp and true, wise and unyielding. You have kept the foremost covenant of our auspice: that of utmost and most meticulous honor."
--
A brief silence. From the corner of her eye, Avery can see Bright Spear shifting from one foot to the other, eager; feeling some amorphous promise in the air.
Anvil of Justice speaks again:
"Reverence of Dawn, I find you worthy of the rank of Fostern. I confer upon you a second name to share glory with your first. From this day forth you are Reverence of Dawn, From Whom the Stars Shall Not Be Hidden by Sunlight. And you are Radiance of Honor, Whose Virtue Shines Unwaveringly Into the Night; Fostern and Philodox of the Lodge of the Sun, the Tribe of the Falcon, the Nation of the Garou."
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