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It was instinct when Tuyen's hand went to the bastard sword at her side. She'd never been this jumpy, never been prone to reach for a weapon first. She was a healer, a doctor, and yet violence came to her more naturally than she wanted it to. It wasn't just Teki's vigilant presence within her guiding her hand when necessary. Not anymore.
A blisteringly cold wind tumbled through the courtyard outside the Citadel, but Tuyen had been running hot. The goosebumps that trailed up her arms didn't come from the chill. At her feet, Teki snapped his jaws in alarm, but his orange fur didn't stand on end as he trotted out in front of her. He'd been the calmer one between them, lately.
The towering golden figure waiting in the courtyard turned to observe them.
"Valiant Champion of Golarion!" it said in a rumbling, resounding voice, strangely eager. It dipped its helmeted head in Teki's direction, which did little to lessen its height. "And noble kami. Fear not. I am the Hand of the Inheritor, herald of Iomedae the lightbringer."
Something seized in Tuyen's chest -- surprise, curiosity, even anger stealing the breath from her. She'd only stepped outside to get some air, away from councils and constant updates and requests for her attention. She stood on the other side of the world, far from home, on the cusp of a rift that had plagued this land for a hundred years, at the head of a resistance that had been all but dwindling into nothing before she arrived and picked up an angel's sword.
And now a celestial stood before her, as radiant as family stories had always described -- suffused in a soft glow, bearing tremendous golden wings, and bedecked from head to toe in equally golden armor, except for where skin shone through, so dark it was almost black and covered in similarly golden whorls that moved like living things. A faint spinning halo of sharp blades crowned his head, hardly visible in daylight.
How far had Tuyen walked her own continent to find something, anything like this?
The angel's face was totally concealed by his helmet, but whatever eyes he had were nonetheless fixed on Tuyen. She had the strangest impression that he did a double take as he gazed upon her, the silence a moment too long before he dropped to one knee in a gesture of deference, graceful despite his stature.
Tuyen took a step back, bumping into the Citadel doors. Even standing on the steps, even though the angel knelt before her, she was hardly taller than him. "Please don't, cousin," she said. She didn't want to be pulled into any more courtly games, but she kept her tone polite. "That isn't necessary."
"I am only giving you the credit you deserve, Champion," the Hand of the Inheritor said earnestly, rising to his feet. Once again, Tuyen had the impression that he was staring at her, that he was looking for something.
Teki's hackles raised in response to Tuyen's discomfort, and the dog sat himself down at the foot of the steps with a haughty toss of his head. "And why has the Inheritor's herald come to call?" Teki demanded. Always one for dramatics, the presence of the door at Tuyen's back magnified his spectral, resonant voice, like it rolled through the stone of the archway itself.
The Hand appeared to give himself a shake, his wings fluttering. "We have much to discuss," he said, his proud, confident voice wavering for a moment, before the hesitation vanished like it had never been. "You must have many questions for me, and I for you. I have come to do what I can to help you, to pledge my aid to your cause, and to ask for your help as well. And, I hope, to receive an answer to a question that has been troubling me."
Tuyen had to muster herself to speak as she moved forward down the steps, as conflicting thoughts and questions warred for dominance. What help could this angel possibly offer when the crusades had been all but abandoned, when even the angel's own kind had been abandoned within a terrible prison of their own making? When this was not the only Abyssal rift threatening the realm of mortals, let alone the only otherworldly threat across the world? What could this angel possibly need from her, from a mortal? What could he tell her about the blood within her that wasn't mortal, about the strange power and heavenly sword that now made a home in her as surely as Teki did?
In the time it took for her to gather her thoughts, the Citadel doors opened.
Anevia slammed to a halt in much the same way that Tuyen had, mouth agape as she stared at the Hand. The angel didn't kneel in the same fashion, but he bowed low to her, and even the unflappable Anevia stammered for a moment, lost for words.
"Righteous comrade!" the Hand said, straightening. "Forgive me for this unannounced and unorthodox intrusion. I am the Hand of the Inheritor, and I have come to bring you aid."
Anevia had a look in her eyes like she'd be inviting Tuyen for a round of drinks later. "Well I'll be damned," she said, finding her voice again and throwing a long glance in Tuyen's direction. "We'd be much obliged for any help, Sir Hand."
With an arch of her eyebrows, Tuyen tried to convey that she was as lost as Anevia was. Anevia's brows shot towards the sky.
"And I must further apologize for this ill-mannered request," the Hand said, remorseful, "but there are matters of grave secrecy that I must discuss with your Commander." His helmeted head turned in Tuyen's direction. "Perhaps in a private locale?"
Tuyen swallowed her questions, her suspicion. "The battlements," she said, the first place that came to mind.
The angel's wings flared wide. "I will await you above," he said, with another dip of his head. "These matters are urgent, but not so pressing that you cannot attend to your comrades. Find me when you have a moment, Champion!" He nodded to Anevia once more and then took flight, his massive wings beating so powerfully that a small eddy of wind gathered beneath him. Teki's fur ruffled with it, and the dog snorted as he got to his feet and circled Tuyen's legs.
Neither Tuyen nor Anevia moved or spoke, until the wingbeats faded.
Anevia shook her head and folded her arms, regarding Tuyen with a wry kind of astonishment. "Honestly, I was just coming to check on you," she said. "You looked a bit peaky in there. And now you look fit to pass out. Things just don't stop happening around you, huh?"
In answer, Tuyen spent a moment massaging her temples. "What do you think he wants?"
"I figure he means what he says," Anevia said. "That ain't just any angel."
"But why now? "
Anevia adopted an incredulous look. "You serious? You noticed anything odd about yourself lately?"
"But that isn't--" Tuyen cut herself off in frustration. Surely her powers weren't so unusual that they'd tempt even the Upper Planes to take notice of the misery here. Surely they had the like, somewhere in another plane, who could have easily done what she had.
Anevia had an appraising eye as she looked Tuyen over. She didn't speak right away, like she was hesitant about sharing her observations, but she said, "You don't trust people's intentions, do you? Especially not when so-called righteous folks get involved."
Tuyen froze, an automatic, defensive thing, but it tasted too much like the metallic tang of rage. She swallowed and shook it off and sighed.
"Just something I've noticed," Anevia continued matter-of-factly. "It makes you keen as hell, and people have a devil of a time pulling one over on you. But if you don't trust your allies, you're only gonna exhaust yourself." She offered a crooked smile. "More than you already have."
"Am I that obvious?" Tuyen asked. Teki muttered something pointed and rude in a back corner of her mind, and she gave the dog a playful nudge with her foot.
"Maybe not to everyone," Anevia said. "Most people think you're mysterious, maybe a little quiet. But you remind me of Beth. She'd work herself to the bone if I let her. Luckily I don't."
Maybe Tuyen didn't trust everyone around her, not like she trusted, say, the spirit within her. But she did trust Anevia, and Anevia was right.
She was tired.
"I'll talk to him," Tuyen said, and when Anevia gave her another arched eyebrow, she added, "and... I'll keep an open mind."
The air stung atop the battlements, without the embrace of stone walls to defend against the winds of the north. But Tuyen hardly felt such things anymore, and the Hand of the Inheritor appeared unbothered. His wings rustled in the wind, and Tuyen found herself watching the movements of the glistening feathers with a fascination that she couldn't help.
The others had seen the shadow of wings when she'd unleashed her power at the Lost Chapel, when she'd taken the Sword of Valor back to its rightful place. Whatever she was turning into, the wings hadn't remained, had only appeared as brief, ghostly glimpses. She hadn't seen them herself, but Seelah, with awe in her voice, had described them as massive and many.
Tuyen's head was full of secret shrines and missing angels, excuses offered and carefully weighed, where Heaven's silence towards the Worldwound and recent crusades was concerned. The Hand had answered her every question candidly, earnest to a fault.
He'd brought the Wardstones to Mendev. The object whose misery and corruption had shaken Tuyen and Teki so thoroughly that Tuyen hardly even remembered what they'd done with it, except that their thoughts had conjoined in order to weather the horror of it, except that all they'd wanted was to make it right.
The Hand seemed to regret it, seemed deeply disturbed by what the Wardstones had become. But what kind of creature and what kind of deity would make such a thing? And what kind of creature was Tuyen becoming, that she could undo it?
The Hand was convinced that her power was heavenly and had something to do with Iomedae, that Tuyen was chosen by the gods. Tuyen wasn't so sure, when so much didn't make sense and remained hidden behind silent gods and hazy memories. She didn't yet have every piece of the puzzle.
Perhaps the Hand had more pieces to offer.
"I have a few more questions," Tuyen said. She'd already questioned him more intensely than was perhaps necessary, but the Hand hadn't seemed to mind. Tuyen was starting to tire of standing atop the battlements, but she kept her back straight and didn't elect to lean against the parapet.
Teki had no such reservations. The dog's form that he used to interact with the world was curled up in the shadow of the parapet, apparently asleep, in order to convey his opinion of the proceedings.
"Of course, Champion!" the Hand said. He appeared utterly tireless, straight-backed with a casual hand rested upon the hilt of his sword. "I will do my best to ease any concerns and satisfy any curiosities you may yet have."
Tuyen wrestled with herself for a moment. She hadn't found these answers in Tianjing. Hadn't found anything except disappointment, in the end. The only good thing she'd gotten out of her pilgrimage was Teki. What if she found disappointment here too? Either no answers at all, or an answer she didn't want to hear?
Did it matter? She needed something, anything. Some ground to stand on that was familiar, and these questions were as old as she was.
"For a long time," Tuyen said slowly, "I've wondered where I come from. I'm the first aasimar in my family in years." The Hand straightened even more, she noticed. His casual hand left the sword and dropped to his side. "My mother's family has always claimed that we're descended from the celestials who came to defend the nation of Tianjing. I was never able to prove it."
The Hand didn't answer as readily as Tuyen had already come to find usual, and Tuyen's heart leapt, twisted with a cautious anticipation. Teki lifted his head, no longer pretending to be asleep. The kami's own curiosity intertwined with Tuyen's anticipation, less eager, more pensive. Her pounding heart calmed.
"I know of Tianjing," the angel said, just as slow. Tuyen couldn't read what was in his voice. He wasn't upset, but he no longer boomed with confidence. "You bear a great deal of resemblance to Lord Ragathiel."
Tuyen blinked. She knew that name. She'd done her research. "The General of Vengeance?" she asked, just to be sure she hadn't misheard.
The Hand nodded. "Your halo resembles his," he said, and Tuyen got the impression, then, that he wasn't quite looking at her, even though his helmeted head faced her. The faint spinning blades caught the daylight and shimmered. "His carries the mark of both his mother and his father -- the goddess Feronia and the archdevil Dispater."
Tuyen's hand rose instinctively, ghosting through the intangible warmth behind her head. The halo had changed too, though it was a difference she could see in a mirror. A sunburst of bright color and ephemeral flame, deep ruby in the center, ringed with sapphire and gold at the edges like a flaring, fiery crown. She'd wondered if perhaps the blood of a peri ran through her veins.
She'd wondered wrong.
"Are you sure?" Tuyen asked, wavering.
The Hand nodded again. "I can see the wings that you will have," he said, and still, Tuyen couldn't quite tell what was in his voice, only that it rang out strong and earnest. "Five wings of flame, just like his."
A goddess, an archdevil, an empyreal lord. Tuyen's head spun.
Now you will be insufferable, Teki said silently.
Only as much as you are, Tuyen said fondly, and aloud, one inane, rather dazed question: "Five?"
The silence was weighty, as if it carried much more than the Hand had yet said. "For a long time," the angel ventured, slow and thoughtful, "Lord Ragathiel did not have the trust of Heaven. Many were suspicious of his hellish nature. Some were even unconscionably cruel, in a way that did not befit goodly beings. When Ragathiel was much younger, he… took this to heart. He undertook reckless actions in an attempt to prove himself."
The way he spoke was familiar, almost fond. Tuyen heard it now, saw it in the golden glow. She studied him closely and listened raptly. Even Teki paid close attention, ears facing forward.
"In the early days," the Hand continued, "he tried to challenge his father, thinking that the slaying of an archdevil, most especially the progenitor who cast such suspicion on him, would win him Heaven's favor. And for that, Dispater tore off one of his six wings. He may very well have killed his son... had I not intervened."
"You know him," Tuyen said, more excited than she meant to be, when she hadn't yet decided how she felt about any of this. Teki's ears twitched.
"I do," the Hand agreed, and his voice dipped into melancholy. "I regret to say that I possessed the same suspicion towards him that drove him to such recklessness. Fortunately, I learned of his intentions, and I rushed to intercede. Ragathiel was young at the time. We both were, and we were not yet ready to do battle with one of the Lords of Hell. But I fought the Iron Lord long enough for Ragathiel to escape." The Hand fell silent, as if lost in contemplation. "After that, I realized how I had erred, how Ragathiel deserved a chance to throw off the shackles of his nature. I offered to become his herald, when no other angel would. I vouched for him. Still, it took many years for him to prove his worthiness to Heaven and take his place among the other empyreal lords."
Tuyen had more questions than she'd started with. Ragathiel had put up with that? How long ago was this? Had the General of Vengeance truly been present in Tianjing seven thousand years ago?
What she said was, "You're Iomedae's herald."
The wind picked up, and the feathers of the Hand's wings stirred, casting soft dancing light against the parapet behind him. But there were no feathers threatening to emerge from Tuyen's back. Flame -- was that why she hardly felt the cold anymore?
"There was much turbulence in the wake of Aroden's death," the Hand said. "My lady Iomedae shouldered a great burden, and some regarded her unfavorably because of her mortal origins. She needed loyal strength at her side, and I could not stand idly by." The Hand's wings rustled again as he shifted, a gauntleted hand trailing aimlessly over the hilt of his blade. "Angels are not like mortals. We swear ourselves to our singular duty and rarely does that change. But I followed my conscience, and Lord Ragathiel… understood, even if others did not."
Tuyen had more questions, and more with every passing second and thought. They vanished from her head when the Hand moved as he had in the courtyard, dropping to one knee in a genuflection that made Tuyen's heart pound uncomfortably. Teki’s tail drooped in a distinctly unimpressed manner.
"I do not regret serving my lady and standing at her side," the Hand said, a fervor in the words. "But I will not pretend that it was easy to leave behind one I had served for many years. I apologize if I have seemed distant while speaking to you. Your appearance startled me, and the more time I spent in your presence, the more I suspected that you must be descended from my lord. Your mention of Tianjing confirmed it for me. He led the charge there against the loathsome qlippoth, many thousands of years ago." The emotion in his voice deepened as he bent his head towards Tuyen. "I am heartened to see that one of his blessed descendants has received the Light of Heaven, and I am all the more convinced of my choice to come to your aid! I have not been at my lord's side for a hundred years, but know that I will serve you just as I served him."
And what was Tuyen supposed to say to that? The angel had a blinding sincerity to him, and Tuyen couldn't find any agenda or guile even when she looked for it, even when she expected it. It wasn't a fair suspicion or a kind bitterness, she knew. She had never brought the blessings and good fortune that an aasimar child was supposed to bestow upon its family, but that wasn't this angel's fault. Nor had he personally overseen Tianjing's crumbling defenses, or Chu Ye's infestation of oni, or the hidden cults and flaunted riches that rotted Goka from the inside out.
No celestial brought the wrath of the Upper Planes down upon any of it, and nothing mortal nor divine, it seemed, had actually made much headway against the festering Worldwound here. But it couldn't be placed on the shoulders of one angel alone.
One creature like him, and my shrine would never have fallen, Teki said, mulish.
Hush, Tuyen said, gentle. You know you shouldn't dwell. "I... appreciate it," she said aloud. "But I don't want servants." With Anevia’s words ringing in her ears, she added, "I'm honored to have you as an ally."
She would see. She would see what this celestial was willing to do, if he was all talk or if he meant what he said about aid. There was something she liked about him already, when he wasn't trying to kneel to her, and there was much that he could tell her. About everything.
All this time, she'd wondered if her mother's talk had been just that, if her grandparents' stories had been a wishful lament for more than one lost and distant country. The answer had come when she'd least expected it. When she was halfway across the world, and yet not entirely sure how she'd gotten here, unable to sift through distorted memories of the Path of Aganhei. When no one seemed to have clear answers about any of it.
A goddess, an archdevil. An empyreal lord of vengeance that she could call grandfather. No wonder the bloodrage had come.
The Hand got to his feet at once. "Forgive me if I have made you uncomfortable," he said, less confident, his stance less at ease. "To serve is an honorable thing! But I am unused to the ways of mortals, and it did not occur to me that such obeisance may not be in accordance with your customs. I only wish to express my desire to help."
"It's fine," Tuyen said, and to her surprise, something tugged the corners of her mouth upward as she watched the angel's wings ruffle anxiously. "And... thank you for your help. There's a lot to do." The thought of it vanished the emergent smile, drowned it in a rising tide of anxiety. It made revelations of blood and family seem small, inconsequential. Lost time and foggy memories and phantom wounds were far from her only burdens now.
Don't dwell, Teki echoed, even gentler, and his voice was a balm, a bastion against dark worries. It won't happen all at once. I will be right there with you.
"I do not know if my counsel will be of any use, when I have not lived among mortals," the Hand said, and his tone became reassuring, regaining its steady, boundless confidence. "But I will do my best to give you the truth and remain watchful for trouble or opportunity. My sword and protection are yours, Champion."
Annoyance flickered through Teki's thoughts where they brushed up against Tuyen's. Don't start, Tuyen said. Teki was a jealous thing sometimes, as many a kami was, though he never meant anything by it except harmless grousing.
"I only ask that we see to Pulura's Fall when the crusade can spare you," the Hand added passionately. "My heart yearns to find my lost comrades, or else to punish those responsible for their deaths."
The vision of Lariel had troubled Tuyen since she'd picked up the sword. Perhaps it was one thing that she could put to rest, lay down one little burden out of many. Her curiosity had stirred too, a desire to know more, present since long before she'd come to this land and taken on the so-called Light of Heaven. A curiosity present since she'd been a child, and the one thing her aasimar's traits had been good for, the one taste of power she'd ever really felt, had been when even the blackest hearts in Goka had feared to cross whatever had given her the glowing sheen of the Upper Planes.
"We will," Tuyen said, with a fervor in her voice to match the Hand's, and she couldn't see his approval behind his faceless helmet, but she felt it all the same.