The night of the Thinnest Veil was a calm and reflective time. Quite different from the eventful and often terrifying tone of the day that lead to it.
Theron strolled along with Aleena past the indeterminable form of spirits. He had just said his goodbyes to Matrim, who had assured him his grandfather had indeed passed to the next life after the defeat of the Spawn.
“Joo didn’t get to say goodbye” Aleena observed as she walked next to him
Theron shrugged, and smiled casually. “No. But I didn’t need that. He had said all I needed to hear before. Now he’s living it up with the ancestors. That’s all I needed.”
His smile sunk as a different sound reached out from the line, another voice drifting out. “Theron.” It said simply. Frowning, he looked, seeing a spirit, it’s outline solidifying, becoming more and more distinct. “Theron.” It repeats.
Hesitantly the brother of the Tome stepped forward. “Mmmaybe…”
The form steps to him in a swift motion. As it does the red and black of a tabard becomes apparent, the tightly bundled hair of a braid swings into place behind a head the holds a pair of piercing, predatory eyes and the rested stance of a woman whose muscles look like they might uncoil to strike at a moment’s inclination
“Brother.” The woman says with playful venom.
“Son of a bitch.” Theron responds loudly, breaking the reverie of those around him. “Dame Debrah Valhn. Anointed of the Line of Valhn, Knight Champion of the Order. What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Not happy to see me?” She says with a wicked grin.
“That doesn’t answer the question at all, does it?” He countered. “Last I saw you, you booted my soul out the Sword like it was a jugger pitch. I see you're too entitled to recognize even the power of death itself. Felt some need to follow me?”
“I did, brother. I wanted to see what became of this cohort under you. I wanted to see if you turned the remnants of our proud Order into something formidable.” She crossed her arms and looked at him judgmentally. “But true to form you turned it into a joke!”
“You entitled, sham-shilling, noble twat! You crossed the veil itself just to piss all over the living, didn’t you? Well I got bad news for you sister, if you’re so bent up on seeing me as primas, you need to take it up with our brothers and sisters who voted for it.” He says leaning in.
Debrah unfolds her arms and stepped to the side in a stance that would have made someone more concerned with self-preservation than Theron nervous. “The same ones you hold back constantly? The same ones who have to watch you turn a blind eye to the wickedness all around you? When I lead the cohort it was a sharp blade.” She slapped at the staff in his hand. “But you’re more of a blunt stick. That shit weapon suits you, by the way, dock rat.”
“You want me to tack the door and burn every home that would offend your, ever so proper, sense of righteousness, princess? Well Garren is dead, and if you haven’t noticed we have to live here, which means we need to act like people and not delusional, self-entitled noble born shits like you!”
“That’s right you low born gutter licker, I am a knight. Are you still trying to shame me for my birthright? I was raised to defend people since I could walk! My entire existence was one of dedicated service to defend those who could not defend themselves. I gave it all up because I believe in the Order’s mission!”
“Then what are you doing here, now?” He demanded
“Because right now I cannot rest. And it’s because of you.”
“Ohhh, this should be richer than your family’s coffers.” Theron spat and started circling the spirit of his oath sworn sister like an accusing prosecutor. “A mighty, high born knight.”
“That’s right.” She confirmed with ire
“But not so mighty that your very soul isn’t shambled down from some connection to some common son of traders.” he concluded as he came full circle around her.
She leaned in, pausing with a satisfied smirk. “You forgot the ‘Academy washout, clan exile’ part, Theron. Or did the Lachaylans take your sorry arse back since I died?”
Theron sputtered. “You dozy tart-“
By now, the two were getting many looks as the quiet of the solemn event was shattered in the incessant cantor of bickering. Pushing past it was the disgusted “Arghhh!” of the half-elf, Aleena, who stomped her feet and yelled. “Joo two clearly need to be alone!” and stormed off amidst a flurry of mutters.
“What was that?” Debrah inquired with quiet confusion.
Theron shrugged and shook his head, lost for words.
Standing there, without their words to get in the way. The two finally smiled, easing their stances to look less like they were squaring off.
“Theron, I am aware of things that have happened. The Soul Eater. Gromit. This Spawn today. I know your approach is considerably different than mine. But often when you advised me of patience, the advice was prudent.”
Theron perked up at the compliment. “So what you’re saying is…”
“Is” She interrupts. “That it is… possible, albeit unlikely, that I admire, on some level, how you’ve fared. Especially considering you don’t have me around.”
Theron smirked, but nodded as it shifts to a warmer smile.
Debrah raised her eyebrow expectantly.
“Thank you, sister. And it is possible, albeit unlikely, that I always considered what you might have done and wish you were still here for your input. As I often looked to your decisive approach. Even considering the Marshall’s constant criticism of your headstrong nature."
The two stand there as silence settles back in.
“I miss you, Debrah.” He says with all the bravado stripped away.
“I miss you too, Theron. Be well. I will see you when you return. I must depart, but thank you. Seeing you here, still able to stand up to even me gives me the hope I needed.”
Debrah walked back, fading back through the veil, her form dissipating again.
“When we meet next, sister, you will not bar my passage to the Sword again.
Debrah’s face smirked at the challenge. “We shall see, brother. I recommend you live long enough to learn how to get past me when the time comes.” And with that she was gone, leaving Theron standing quite alone to ponder.