An Unlikely Meeting

A man, young in form but old in spirit, sat knelt in front of an altar. Such was not an uncommon sight for the rituals of the Myriad Occulus, but this sight was unusual for a peculiar reason: The altar was no shrine to him, his Rune, or his cult, but a place of public worship. Julian, after nearly seventy years of following his own path in life, had found his way back to a church. The institution of Lasalm was not terribly widespread in Rivale, but the mayor Viktrea was a practitioner, and she had gone through great efforts to represent different religions in her city. Perhaps the very reason why they were able to set up a chapter of the Occulus here with so little trouble in the first place.

Lasalm was an ancient word, meaning 'Origin'. It was very broad in scope, but the easiest way to explain it would have been to say that the central figures of worship are those from which life was conceived. Arceus, the grandmother of all, who is known as Origin. Yveltal and Xerneas, for reasons obvious to any of you. The trio of Humanity, Azelf, Mesprit and Uxie who gifted the three gifts of sapiance - Emotion, Knowledge, and Willpower. Mew, the bearer of Love, beloved daughter of Arceus and mother of Pokemon. There was another, less remembered deity who was responsible for the existance of the soul itself - Giratina, but he was not considered a part of the religion of Lasalm. He had been forgotten in favor of those who came after. Julian had not forgotten Giratina, however. Or rather, he had come to remember, perhaps too late. He had not looked within his own soul for some time. He felt the urge, for a moment, to pray for guidance in this dark moment, when things had started to crumble from beneath him, but he shook his head clear of such thoughts and folded his hands in prayer of a different kind - Prayer that those who turned away from the Occulus would cause no further harm to others, prayer for the wounded and perished in the incident, prayer for the victims whose livelihood had been damaged by the fruits of his own labor - the revenants, and the warframes. He prayed for them, but not for their forgiveness. Not for the salvation of his Soul. He had always felt prayer was wasted on such things, that good works in earnest faith would deliver him. Had that been the correct way to think? In that case, what should he do NOW, for his people, and for the people of Dulcet?

His prayers, despite his best efforts, became reflections of self doubt, and he left his bowed position, frowning. The door of the great chapel was opening, and a loud, female voice was what greeted his ears. "Hey!" The tone was less than pleased, though admittedly he'd never heard this voice before. He slowly rose to his feet and found himself face to face with a woman in a striped pink shirt, and yellow skirt. A scowl was plastered across her face, and a shield strapped to her back, but no weapon. She seemed curiously itchy, her hand twitching towards the shield for a moment, before she just continued scowling, then pointed at Julian. "You!"

He thought for a moment, looking at her. There was something familiar about her, but he wasn't sure- oh. There it was. The pin on her shirt that resembled a Gracidea flower. The Order of Gracidea's badge of knighthood. Then there wasn't any doubt who this woman could be. "Danielle DeLeon, I presume? How may I help you?" She was clearly displeased with him, and if the rumors about her were true that wasn't a good thing, but he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. She looked confused at the address by name. "Huh? Were you expecting me?" "Not at all." Julian replied. "The stories merely precede you. And pardon, I am Julian Fairweather." Her expression turned into a suspicious, sour leer. "You're the Founder of the Myriad Occulus, right??" "That's... what I called myself at one time, yes." Her reaction was immediate - and she stomped her way over to him and pushed him back somewhat, almost making him topple over the altar. "You have a lot of nerve, you know, coming here after everything you've done! They already ran you out of town once already, then you came back with an army! And even after getting beat down -again- you're still skulking around with your cult??"

Sigh. He should have figured it would come to this. He had to find a way to de-escalate the situation. "Ma'am, this is a church." he said, after a moment. "I will be happy to address your concerns, but please keep your... assaults to a minimum here." Something about that seemed to agitate her further for a moment, but she stepped backward. "Okay, sanctuary. I get it. Now explain yourself, already."

This was getting off to a swimming start. He looked around, then waved her over to one of the pews. The church was empty this time of afternoon on a Tuesday, so they had the run of the place. He had a seat on one of the wide, sturdy benches, though she remained standing. The Order of Gracidea... an organization of knightly individuals dedicated to rooting out injustice, but with a dark past. He had tried to keep Occulus activities quiet in the past just to avoid their scrutiny. But now... honesty might help.

"I assure you, miss DeLeon, I did not want this to happen." he began, running a hand through his hair, and glancing back at the doors. "We do not conduct raids on towns. There was an... internal dispute and a crisis of faith among my people, and our ...disagreement came all the way to Dulcet. The leader of the coup, Elias, sought the prisoners that the Chroma Peace Alliance had imprisoned in Dulcet's gaol. I, for my part, assembled what remained of my followers to try and -stop- this madness. It has been... a difficult time for us."

Danielle continued glaring. "Suppose I believe you. What's that excuse the other stuff you guys have done? Helping that corrupt Diarchy with their war? Stealing the dead and re-animating them? Performing who knows what kind of perverse rituals behind closed doors??" "...Nothing, I suppose. I know full well the crimes I have committed and I was arrogant enough to believe the ends justified the means." he looks quiet for a moment. "...Was it not the same for the Order of Gracidea?" At that, Danielle almost looked ready to snap - it appeared he had said the wrong thing.

"Of COURSE it was! And that's what ticks me off so much! Snotty old men who killed innocent people in the name of justice and glorified themselves for it! The Order is a MESS. But that's a problem I intend to fix. In fact, I was on my way back when I heard about this attack. And -you- at least, admit your fault. I don't get why the mayor hasn't hauled you in yet."

Julian looked thoughtful for a moment. "...I wonder that myself. But she, among others, seems to think I deserve a chance to make amends. And with every fiber of my being, for those I have wronged, I intend to do so. I don't know how, just yet, I will. I thought myself too lofty to err, and too many have paid the price for my overconfidence."

Danielle sighed, and the anger began to escape from her like wind wheezing from a balloon. "I... guess I know how easy it is to get carried away. Not like I've done anything on your scale, but I've made people mad at me when I was just trying to do what I felt was right. I guess I'm kind of arrogant too?" she considers. "...Hey, you really mean it?"

"...Mean what?" "That you want to try and make amends." "Without a shadow of a doubt."

Danielle put her hand to her chin, thinking a moment. "...I need to see what kind of a person you and your people are, before I decide. But maybe I have an idea. One that'll help us both."