[C] Not a Trial, pt 8 - The End
"Yes I have," she answered with only a slight pause. The memory itself seemed distant, but she remembered her hesitation. With everything she had done that night ... "Of everything it was the most ... difficult choice, but I have done it as it was necessary. And surprisingly temporary. But does invalidate the letter of my Onyx responsibilities, and so I stopped acting in a way to wield Mysteries authority. It's ironic that of all the Onyx I've spoken to since, none of them found the point interesting enough to ask. Even the ones who still insist I am Onyx."
"At what point did you taste the blood of another? Was it before or after you entered Belial's Brood." Hammond paused. "You have admitted to other Onyx this? If I recall my Rites of the Dragon ... and I still am Learnaean ... 'Those who are sworn to the Mysteries are forbidden to taste the blood of the strigoi under any circumstances. Should they be fed on false love by force, it is meet that they seek their own destruction in fire or the sun. If they are too weak to escape their shame in that fashion, let them be cast down and shunned for their dishonor. Worse, should they consume the blood and soul of a fellow ghul, they are to be punished by impalement and burning, at the hands of all who acclaimed them into their position. Let the upholders of Mystery be pure, both in heart and in judgment.'
"Did these Onyx not mention any of this?," Hammond asked.
C acknowledged how what he said made no sense compared to what she has said and held her hands out, palms up, just as helpless to explain as he. "As I say, the Dragons have Onyx who marry for love, and who invite other covenants to live in their academies' spare rooms. Onyx who overextend themselves and who engender the ire toward the Dragons from several states at once. Onyx who Quest to other covenants and take up arms in their name. Personally, I have come to think that the Onyx should have strict entry requirements and kind exit requirements, as they can be very intelligent, productive Dragons who don't fit the black or who lose their Academies' confidence. But that would require a change in global policy, and we know how quickly those come about. I tasted it on entry," she supplied at the end to answer the question.
"If only I could loose the Moroi on such idiocy," Mycroft mutters to himself.
"As much as I agree with your overall statements regarding the current state of affairs with a number of faults in the Great Work, sadly I was not asked to sit in judgement of them ... just you." He picked up and began to twirl the odd plastic thing. Jack would likely have recognized what it was. "As you can tell, from what I have quoted before, I adhere very much to the Rites in terms of the spirit of what Vlad does. The specifics or blueprints he laid out can be discarded as we outgrow them. However the spirit of what he started and the spirit of the Principia Draconis are what move this covenant forward ... or should. That said when I make my determination of this particular 'violation' I will be consulting and meditating on the spirit of the Rites and those words.
"That said, in regards to the tasting of the blood, it appears I will need as many specifics as possible. Why was it required? What is the supposed purpose behind this ingestion? Will you reveal the identity of the individual you tasted? If so, why was that individual the specific one?"
C's pacing slowed again and it was a short while before she answered, not loudly. "It was not required. It was offered."
She walks a while more before continuing. "I did it so that I would not be able to consider myself an Onyx any longer. Everything else could be personal study, but the nature of my path into the Brood dictated that I make a choice and commit to it. At that point there is no hope or expectation that I could or would feel compelled or qualified to make decisions on the future of the Dragons who thought themselves under my jurisdiction.
"The actions and offerings of the individual who walked me through it, I would assert, are not relevant. The choices here to be examined are mine."
There was silence at her answer and her rebuttal. She kept walking. Waiting.
"I believe I have all the testimony from you I require. I must consult the Rites; being able to quote them verbatim is not the same as consulting them. Is there anything you would like to add Philosopher?," He asked.
She considered. There was SO much that could have been said ... But this was not an audience who had come to listen to it. "For nigh on a century I have devoted myself to the Ordo Dracul and the invitation to do more with my self than what the rest of Kindred society expected of me. I could make a speech here but my greater vision is not what is on trial. Immortal Hammond, you know what is relevant. I will return to my room. I would ask for pen and paper."
She nodded to the Immortal and allowed him the opportunity to insist she stay. He did not, and she turned to go without waiting for an escort. Sutter was there with her in a timely and efficient manner, and she walked to where she would be packed away.
Sutter said nothing during the walk, and she expected that it was not the time to say anything to him. Either he would be defensive about the confusion on the Academy's attack or he would not care to seek her knowledge, or else he would have already. So she kept silent.
Settling in to her windowless room, she knelt in the middle of it, imagining her nights and days with S briefly, before the recollection was gone.
Sutter shut the door. There was movement outside and a plasticky sound she did not at first recognize. A brushing of something soft against the edges of the door ...
... He was weather stripping the door.
She listened to the process, and got up to peer at the door itself.
The sounds ended. Well. So much for the pen and paper.
And then he walked away.
C furrowed her brow, now entirely perplexed at Sutter's moves. She listened again. Strained, to hear Moroi. But nothing. Nothing.
She looked up at the camera. Well, if there was going to be no pen and paper, there was no point in waiting.
Tiny muscles and tendons in her finger worked as she straightened it and pushed out a claw, first poking the camera lens out and then carving her goodbye note into the wall itself.
And then she let herself out.
"At what point did you taste the blood of another? Was it before or after you entered Belial's Brood." Hammond paused. "You have admitted to other Onyx this? If I recall my Rites of the Dragon ... and I still am Learnaean ... 'Those who are sworn to the Mysteries are forbidden to taste the blood of the strigoi under any circumstances. Should they be fed on false love by force, it is meet that they seek their own destruction in fire or the sun. If they are too weak to escape their shame in that fashion, let them be cast down and shunned for their dishonor. Worse, should they consume the blood and soul of a fellow ghul, they are to be punished by impalement and burning, at the hands of all who acclaimed them into their position. Let the upholders of Mystery be pure, both in heart and in judgment.'
"Did these Onyx not mention any of this?," Hammond asked.
C acknowledged how what he said made no sense compared to what she has said and held her hands out, palms up, just as helpless to explain as he. "As I say, the Dragons have Onyx who marry for love, and who invite other covenants to live in their academies' spare rooms. Onyx who overextend themselves and who engender the ire toward the Dragons from several states at once. Onyx who Quest to other covenants and take up arms in their name. Personally, I have come to think that the Onyx should have strict entry requirements and kind exit requirements, as they can be very intelligent, productive Dragons who don't fit the black or who lose their Academies' confidence. But that would require a change in global policy, and we know how quickly those come about. I tasted it on entry," she supplied at the end to answer the question.
"If only I could loose the Moroi on such idiocy," Mycroft mutters to himself.
"As much as I agree with your overall statements regarding the current state of affairs with a number of faults in the Great Work, sadly I was not asked to sit in judgement of them ... just you." He picked up and began to twirl the odd plastic thing. Jack would likely have recognized what it was. "As you can tell, from what I have quoted before, I adhere very much to the Rites in terms of the spirit of what Vlad does. The specifics or blueprints he laid out can be discarded as we outgrow them. However the spirit of what he started and the spirit of the Principia Draconis are what move this covenant forward ... or should. That said when I make my determination of this particular 'violation' I will be consulting and meditating on the spirit of the Rites and those words.
"That said, in regards to the tasting of the blood, it appears I will need as many specifics as possible. Why was it required? What is the supposed purpose behind this ingestion? Will you reveal the identity of the individual you tasted? If so, why was that individual the specific one?"
C's pacing slowed again and it was a short while before she answered, not loudly. "It was not required. It was offered."
She walks a while more before continuing. "I did it so that I would not be able to consider myself an Onyx any longer. Everything else could be personal study, but the nature of my path into the Brood dictated that I make a choice and commit to it. At that point there is no hope or expectation that I could or would feel compelled or qualified to make decisions on the future of the Dragons who thought themselves under my jurisdiction.
"The actions and offerings of the individual who walked me through it, I would assert, are not relevant. The choices here to be examined are mine."
There was silence at her answer and her rebuttal. She kept walking. Waiting.
"I believe I have all the testimony from you I require. I must consult the Rites; being able to quote them verbatim is not the same as consulting them. Is there anything you would like to add Philosopher?," He asked.
She considered. There was SO much that could have been said ... But this was not an audience who had come to listen to it. "For nigh on a century I have devoted myself to the Ordo Dracul and the invitation to do more with my self than what the rest of Kindred society expected of me. I could make a speech here but my greater vision is not what is on trial. Immortal Hammond, you know what is relevant. I will return to my room. I would ask for pen and paper."
She nodded to the Immortal and allowed him the opportunity to insist she stay. He did not, and she turned to go without waiting for an escort. Sutter was there with her in a timely and efficient manner, and she walked to where she would be packed away.
Sutter said nothing during the walk, and she expected that it was not the time to say anything to him. Either he would be defensive about the confusion on the Academy's attack or he would not care to seek her knowledge, or else he would have already. So she kept silent.
Settling in to her windowless room, she knelt in the middle of it, imagining her nights and days with S briefly, before the recollection was gone.
Sutter shut the door. There was movement outside and a plasticky sound she did not at first recognize. A brushing of something soft against the edges of the door ...
... He was weather stripping the door.
She listened to the process, and got up to peer at the door itself.
The sounds ended. Well. So much for the pen and paper.
And then he walked away.
C furrowed her brow, now entirely perplexed at Sutter's moves. She listened again. Strained, to hear Moroi. But nothing. Nothing.
She looked up at the camera. Well, if there was going to be no pen and paper, there was no point in waiting.
Tiny muscles and tendons in her finger worked as she straightened it and pushed out a claw, first poking the camera lens out and then carving her goodbye note into the wall itself.
And then she let herself out.