#countess anise

[adalheidis]

I played through Janthir Wilds recently

[aid-worker-sya]

my personal prediction for how the next expansion is gonna start based on that letter from anise to livia

the commander, trying to relax: the commander, answering their comms device: hello? anise: hey remember when 8 years ago you became an honorary blade and made that oath of confidence? remember how you're technically bound by duty to kryta and the throne but you're basically a special agent with special freedoms that's allowed to mostly do what you want as long as it's not against kryta? the commander, checking the gw2 wiki to see 8 years have actually passed in-universe between lws3 and soto: yeah? anise: yeah special freedoms time over get your ass over here NOW

[gristlegrinder]

i heard that the shining blade’s back, baby

[herald-of-aurene]

And my Countess Anise's true form!

My version of Anise is roughly 135 at the start of the personal story. She is the daughter of a Krytan commoner, and was born roughly 100 years after the foefire. She quickly rose through the ranks of the shining blade, but at 30 she was cut down during a mission with a disguised Lady Caligo and Livia. She begged them both to not let her die, and to help her, that she wasn't ready yet, she still wanted to protect Kryta. Sadly, despite their efforts, she passed away due to her wounds.

Livia turned to Caligo, and asked her to raise Anise, as she could only see the next Master Exemplar within her. Once she did raise her, she gave her a single command, to protect Kryta. By Lady Caligo both not exerting her will over Anise giving her such a broad command, Anise was able to both keep her mind, and do whatever she though was best for Kryta. Afterwards, she spent years training under Livia to make her illusions nearly undetectable to hide her true appearance.

[skaald-of-the-hearth-fires]

You're too hard on yourself, Logan. The queen doesn't expect perfection. Why do you?

-- Countess Anise to Logan Thackeray, level 10 commoner storyline, instance: The Commander

[jennyandvastraflint]

*runs into a door* OKAY HEAR ME OUT.

So. You know Moiraine and Siuan right.

These two???

Okay. Now. I WILL SHOW YOU SOMETHING FROM GUILD WARS 2.

Listen- You know I'm right. THEY'RE THE SAAAAMEEEE. (as a side note yes I ship Anise and Jennah I am proud author of I think 2/5 fics about them on AO3)

Anyway. Guild Wars mutuals? @accidentallyadorable is this something. Affirm my sleep-deprived, connection-making brain

[rosy-opal-commander]

That's it that's the relationship.

[oh-my-hubris]

Loyalty Of Angels 2: A Legacy Of Service

Jhonny is forced to address a past he doesn't really have.

1322

Jhonny had read the letter so many times that when he fell over onto his thin mattress with the candle blown out he was reading it behind his eyelids. He didn't get letters. This was the first one he'd ever had in memory.

So, naturally, it was a doozy.

My Friend, I’m a researcher for the Queen’s archives, and I have recently uncovered some information regarding your parents. I thought you might want to see it. I would prefer to discuss the details in person, so if you will meet me at the palace gardens at Divinity’s Reach, I’ll share them with you.  To prove I am what I say, I have enclosed half of an amulet, which I believe will match a broken one you’ve owned since you were born—something my research led me to uncover. I look forward to meeting you face-to-face.  Sincerely, A friend. 

In his fist, Jhonnen held his half of the amulet, the hardwood and inlaid mithril digging into his skin. The only clue to a mystery he had never believed would be solved. Who he was. Where he was from. 

His first memories were of Queen's Heart Orphanage. Sometimes he could almost remember someone carrying him, but it slipped away before he could determine anything about that person.  Even if they were real.

He had his name, but only his first name, and it might have been given to him by the Priestess of Kormir who raised him—though she denied it—and he had the amulet. Putting the two pieces together revealed the face of a lion and a weathered inscription reading, As true as the sky, as sure as the sword. 

Even with the amulet in his hand, clenched in a fist, the leather thong remained around his neck as it always had. 

He'd thought about throwing it away a million times. It was a question that wouldn't be answered and a tie to a past that wasn't really his. It was good hardwood, the mithril could have fetched an okay price. 

But he'd never sold it. He had tried telling himself that he didn’t care. That if it had mattered who his parents were he wouldn’t have spent nineteen years not knowing. Someone would have come for him. He wouldn’t have grown up as unwanted as he had. 

But the rest of him… needed to know. Who were they? Why did they leave him? If they were dead or not. How they had died.

The broken heart of a child, begging to be loved. 

The amulet, for all that he wanted it to mean nothing, was the only proof that someone other than Priestess Isabeau had loved him.

The only enemy he really had was dead and hadn’t known about the amulet anyway, certainly not well enough to fake something like this. It wasn't Pete's style, anyway. The only person who’d seen him naked was Alice, and she’d accepted that everyone had their secrets. 

Quinn was dead.

So he’d go. He had to go. 

The next morning, Jhonny dressed and headed down to the bar, kissing Petra on the cheek to see her blush and turning to Andrew to tell him that he had business up in the palace gardens, but he’d be back to work in the evening. 

Andrew had mostly forgiven him for the Pete-thing, the bar had been found in pristine condition because Thackeray had dealt with the blood and body after, apparently, carrying Jhonny up to the Temple of Six to deal with the whole ‘stabbed’ thing. 

And Jhonny had paid for the beer, and that helped. 

He headed up to the Palace Gardens and waited anxiously to be recognized. He tried to pretend like he was admiring the intricate hedges, but knew he looked every inch as impatient as he felt. Hedges weren't wildly interesting on the best of days, much less when you were waiting for fundamental answers to your existence. 

“Jhonnen Jackson?” asked a man, coming up behind him. A hand settled on his shoulder. 

“I recognize the first—” Jhonny moved quickly, jerking his elbow back when he felt the press of something sharp against his back, right above the kidney. He spun around, face to face with the man with the knife.  

“Can I fucking help you?” he snapped. Was he being mugged in the royal gardens? Did people mug each other in the royal gardens? He’d never mugged anyone in the royal gardens

He was not an idiot.

…

He was less of an idiot, generally. 

“Don’t be like that,” sneered the assassin. “I’m here to reunite you with your parents.” 

Jhonny never went unarmed, a habit from the bad old days. In a flash he had his own knife in his hand. 

The assassin whistled and suddenly Jhonny was surrounded, his back pressed to one of the hedges. He clenched the fist that didn’t have the knife and summoned Betty to him, turning the odds to two against… a lot. 

So still not great.

But better, and that was enough to work with. It was rare for things to be much better than better anyway. 

“Hold fast, stranger!” shouted a deep clear voice. “The Shining Blade is here!” 

Jhonnen did not take his eyes off the assassin with the knife, because the moment he did he was dead, but he did wonder what the Queen’s personal guard was doing here. 

Random do-gooding? Wasn't that supposed to generally be a Seraph thing?

At least it evened the odds a bit. 

It had been a while since Jhonny had fought with a blade. The nickname ‘Little Knife’ referred to his penchant for swinging a greatsword around, but he knew the trick to knife fighting. The trick was getting in quick and accepting that you were gonna get cut. 

The minute the two Shining Blade exemplars threw themselves into the fray, Jhonny had Betty run a path down the middle. Jhonny followed swiping with his knife and throwing knees and elbows. It was a quick and brutal fight, but at the end of it, a friendly, gauntleted hand picked Jhonny back up to standing. 

The woman smiled at him, not a happy smile, but a stern, battle hardened smile. “When you’ve caught your breath, we should talk.” 

“We can talk now,” Jhonny said, panting. He looked at the bodies. One of them had known something. 

Jackson. 

His last name… was it Jackson? Did it mean something? It apparently meant enough that someone had tried to assassinate him over it. He was a nobody. Less than a nobody. 

So who were they after?

“Excellent work handling those foul cultists,” she said. “May they know Grenth’s justice. I’m Exemplar Sahlia of the Shining Blade. This is Exemplar Mehid.” 

“Awesome,” said Jhonny. “I’m Jhonny.” Jhonny Jackson. Jhonnen Jackson. “What’s this about cultists?” 

“White Mantle, to be exact,” said Mehid. 

Jhonny looked at him skeptically. “I was pretty sure the White Mantle had been stomped out. And why bother attacking me?”

“They often target defenders of Kryta and its Queen,” said Mehid. 

Jhonny looked at him skeptically again. He’d been involved with stopping Pete’s attack on the water supply and he’d told Thackeray (his buddy Logan, har har) that he’d step in again if needed. But he was hardly a stalwart defender of the crown. 

He'd helped Thackeray with a mugging like… last week? Just because he was around.

Was that enough for the White Mantle to try and murder him?

Frowning, Jhonny took the amulet out of his shirt and the second piece out of his pocket. “They sent me the other piece of that amulet to lure me out here.” It might be relevant to whatever was going on, but he felt weird showing it. 

The amulet was private.

 “Judging from the symbol on that amulet, I’d say your family has been very loyal to the kingdom. For… a long time.”

Jhonny pursed his lips in question. 

Sahlia peered over. “A mark of the king’s favor? That’s interesting. Probably from Queen Jennah’s father, if I had to guess.” 

Mehid shook his head. “Isn't that…” 

Sahlia shook her head harshly, ending the argument. 

None of this made any sense. And that meant that there was something they weren't telling him. He hated it but arguing with people who made secrets their business was probably fruitless. Jhonny tucked the amulet away, half down his shirt and half into a pocket. 

Sahlia nudged one of the bodies with her foot. “We’re about to raid a White Mantle hideout we found recently. A hunting lodge near Beetletun. It’ll be dangerous, but the cultists there may know more.”

“I think I know that lodge,” Jhonny said, bringing up a map of Queensdale in his head. The gang used to deliver stolen spirits out there. Jhonny himself had never gone, but he could find it. “I won’t take no for an answer, I’m more useful in a fight than this made me look and they… they might know more about my parents.” 

Admitting it was galling. His unknown past was a private injury. One to be licked in private.

He shouldn’t care. It had been easier not to care. But the Shining Blade knew something.

Which meant that there was something to be known.

The Exemplars nodded their agreement and Sahlia headed off to inform the Seraph about the bodies. Jhonny stood there, numb with shock, as Captain Thackeray arrived with a couple of troops to haul the White Mantle corpses away. 

“Why is it that when I find Kryta’s enemies in a pile, you’re standing nearby?” Thackeray asked, trying to make light. 

Despite himself, Jhonny smiled a little bit. “I’m a lucky guy.” He gave a tiny shrug. “I'm also pretty quick with a knife.”

“You’re bleeding.” Thackeray pointed to the blood on Jhonny’s sleeve. 

Jhonny sighed. “This is why I used to wear black. No one can tell you’re bleeding when you wear black.” 

“That a big issue in your line of work?” 

“Previous line of work. I’m currently a law abiding bar back. And, yeah, they see you bleed, they realize you’re not invulnerable, they get ideas. Surely you of all people know how it works. If you present an impenetrable wall…”

Thackeray nodded with a small smile off his own. “Eventually even your enemies will believe it.”   

------

Jhonny reached the hunting lodge a little bit after Sahlia and Mehid, and was grateful that they had waited for him to start the assault.

Jhonny summoned a shade from thin air and ripped Betty out of the ground. “Backup,” he said out of the corner of his mouth, trying to quiet his nerves. 

He was used to lowlives and street thugs. An injury or two was usually enough to end a confrontation and nobody had any real training. These were cultists, driven by fanaticism and probably trained to kill. 

The bastard assassins in the gardens certainly had been. 

He was used to being outclassed, but he did generally hate it.

Jhonnen marched on the doorguard, all five foot five and full of fire, he held his ground as he was surrounded and then whistled for Betty. What he lacked in training he made up for with inventive enthusiasm, using the greatsword to clear space and then pulling the knife when they got close enough. He followed Sahlia and Mehid’s lead as they ransacked the inn, murdering cultists and freeing the few non-Mantle guests. 

A new initiate, trembling and terrified on her knees, gave them the location of the Confessor—down in the basement. 

Jhonny had mixed feelings about what to with her but Salhia had decapitated her before he could get a word out. 

That was handled, one way or another, and realistically probably the best the new cultist was going to get from the Shining Blade.

The Confessor, Jhonny figured, was the idiot in charge and that they’d have the answers he was seeking.  And if they didn't they had joints that could be broken until they told him who did.

The Confessor was a pretty young woman with a silly had and a very large rifle. She was outnumbered, however, and being pressed on all sides, making the gun less of an asset. 

“I need information,” Mehid said sternly. 

The Confessor held her chin up defiantly, jerked the barrel under it, and went out with a literal bang. 

Blood spurted up and rained down on the floor and some of the papers. 

Gruesome and uninformative, but Jhonny refused to give up hope. He started looking through the desk she’d been standing at and then moved onto the bookcases. Tearing through bits of paper desperate for some reason the Mantle had been after him and some clue as to who his parents had been.

They were probably the same thing.

“You killed the Confessor,” said Exemplar Salia. “This is a true victory for Krtya.” 

“Yes, great, whatever,” Jhonny muttered, still leafing through the papers. The Confessor had killed herself, he'd just been closest at the moment she pulled the trigger, and she'd been responding to Mehid.

Eventually he found a list of names. Logan Thackeray; protector of the Queen, Countess Anise; advisor to the Queen, Jhonnen Jackson; child of the Queen’s spies, the list went on and on. He showed it to Mehid and Salia. 

The Queen's spies.

Mehid and Sahlia had said the amulet was from the King.

“Grenth’s Teeth,” swore Mehid. “It’s a list of targets! Every name on here is one of the queen’s allies. If they managed to take out all of these people—” 

“They won’t,” Jhonny interrupted, and not just because his name was among them for some reason. “But first, I have to… warn Captain Thackeray.” It felt like the words were coming out of someone else’s mouth, but it was true. Thackeray would have warned him. He had to warn Thackeray. 

His buddy Logan.  

He looked at the Exemplars. “Thackeray deserves to know he’s a target and he might have a thought or two on dealing with this.” 

Sahlia frowned and then sighed. “You’re right. Anise won’t like us sharing information so recklessly, but this is an emergency. We’ll meet you at Captain Thackeray’s office.” 

Countess Anise wouldn’t be happy about telling a man who was on a list of targets about the list of targets. Even when that man was Logan Godsdamn Thackeray. 

Countess Anise needed to get her priorities straight. 

“Stay safe,” said Exemplar Sahlia, heading into the night. “We’ll draw less attention if we travel separately.” 

Jhonny chuckled to himself, like he had to be told how to avoid unfriendly eyes. He had been the Little Knife, terror of Divinity’s Reach. He knew how to stay off the radar. 

Hell, technically he'd never been caught. Technically.

He made his way back to Divinity’s Reach and headed immediately for the palace district, aware of how bedraggled he looked. The bruises from the fight were starting to stand out on his pale skin, his clothing was torn where blades had barely missed him. 

At least he looked the part. Thackeray would probably take him seriously. 

He was shown into the office and Thackeray took stock of him. “You look like you’ve been in a fight.” 

“Happens after a fight,” Jhonny shrugged. “We’d better wait for the Exemplars to show up or you’ll have to listen to the same information twice.” He slumped into a chair. “Hair looks nice by the way.” 

Thackeray smiled a little but rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Jhonnen.”

Fondly exasperated was a good look on the Captain. Made him seem like a person. 

“That’s what I’m here for, spontaneous compliments and bad news.” He looked up as the door opened and Sahlia and Mehid entered the office with Countess Anise in the middle of scolding them for involving a civilian. 

“Especially this civilian.”

Jhonny narrowed his eyes at the Countess, wondering what she was hiding from him. He looked away and smiled at Logan. “There’s the bad news I mentioned.” 

Thackeray looked from Jhonny to the Shining Blade Exemplars and back. “More White Mantle?” 

“More White Mantle,” Jhonny said, picking himself up out of the chair. “I’ll let them explain.”

He listened intently as the exemplars explained about the hideout and the lists. Thackeray’s scowl deepened with every word. 

“We can’t let these roaches continue to spread,” he said at last. “I’ll mobilize the Seraph and burn this cult to the ground!” 

“Logan, no,” said Anise calmly. “You’ve been fighting centaurs for too long. The White Mantle are cunning, treacherous foes. They will predict your moves, outmaneuver you.” She gestured to Salia and Mehid. “The Shining Blade has been fighting them for a long time. We know the best way to deal with the Mantle: stealth and cunning.” 

“We need to move quickly,” said Mehid. “They probably know we’re coming either way. Our friend has been invaluable so far. Perhaps Jhonnen can offer some insight here.” 

Jhonny’s eyes went wide as everyone looked to him. He was uncomfortable being the center of attention. Particularly with people who by all rights should have been arresting him. 

Or should have arrested him a few years ago. He'd been remarkably well behaved recently. 

“Agreed,” said Thackeray. “So, my friend, the choice is yours. Stealth or strength?” 

There was a lot to unpack in what had just happened and Jhonny took a moment to do so under the guise of thinking very hard. Firstly, these sorts of decisions shouldn’t be left up to him, the only leadership experience he had was crime-based. 

Then again, that gave him some insight into how the White Mantle was forced to operate, didn’t it? They couldn’t operate inside the laws of Kryta. 

Which meant they needed to come at the cult sideways and then hit them hard. So a stealthy approach was probably the best plan. 

None of this, however, accounted for Thackeray calling him his friend. 

It might have been--and probably was--just a matter of speech. But there was a friendliness inherent in how Thackeray said it.

Jhonny had had precious few friends over his short span on Tyria, and all of them were dead. Because all of them had been Quinn. And he had failed to keep Quinn safe.

Logan—not Thackeray, not now—was loyal and brave and… actually pretty funny. He wasn’t as self-centered as he’d been made out to be. 

If he wanted to be friends, if he was extending that olive branch, Jhonny had no choice but to accept. And accept… gladly. He and Logan had had a couple of run-ins since the poisoning incident. Mostly minor things, but they, surprisingly, got along. He had a better sense of humor and was more down to earth than Jhonny had expected.

Wow, he was going to need to drink later.

But possibly not by himself.

He cleared his throat. “If they act like a gang does, you’ll have to come at them sideways or they’ll scatter. If they go to ground, we stand less of a chance of actually dealing with them. So… we're going to have to go in stealthy and then hit them as hard as we can to make sure none get out.”

He looked up at Logan, mostly to see what he thought about Johnny disagreeing with him. 

Logan looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. “Makes sense,” he conceded.

They, mostly the Countess, laid out a plan to meet at a Seraph outpost in Kessex fields. Jhonny lingered after Anise, Mehid and Sahlia had left to prepare. He looked up at Logan and forced his posture to relax. “When this is over, you want to get another beer?” 

Logan looked at him and smiled a little bit. “Yeah, I’d like that. Assuming you're buying.”

It felt like a tease. 

And that was nice. 

Jhonny grinned. “Thackeray, does something about this get up make me look made of money?” He rolled his eyes. “But, I can.” 

Logan laughed. “How much do you think I make, Jhonnen?”

“Jhonny,” Jhonny corrected. “And more than I do as a bar back.”

“I'll get the drinks next time.”

Jhonny gave a short shrug and a smile. “Works for me.”

-------

They met on a hill in the swamp to hear Countess Anise’s sneaky plan, but it was Logan who actually seemed to have one. 

This seemed to surprise Countess Anise in a way that was probably insulting and definitely funny. 

“Get into position, everyone,” he ordered. “I’ll approach, and when they make their move, you all rush in a spring the trap.” 

The Countess laughed a little, covering it daintily behind the back of one gloved hand. “You, Captain? No offense, but the Shining Blade and the White Mantle have a long history. Don’t you think I would make a more tempting lure.” 

Logan shrugged. “No doubt. But wouldn’t that seem a little suspicious? You out walking alone, the queen nowhere in sight… At least I move about on my own regularly.” 

Jhonny nodded. It was true. Logan did things like patrol and chat with ruffian bar backs. Apparently he made plans to get beers with them.

“That’s a good point,” said Exemplar Salia. “Where you do want us then, Captain? Anywhere is fine so long as we’re close to the action.” 

Jhonny looked around and pointed to the ruins. “Those ruins are where I would lie in wait if I were waiting here, which I guess I am. Good elevation, walls to hide behind. We’ll be able to see and hear everything.” 

“Sounds perfect,” Logan said. “Just be ready to move quickly when things turn ugly.” 

Jhonny reached out and touched Logan’s elbow cob and gave him a thin-lipped smile. “I’ve lost one friend this year, not looking to lose two.” 

Logan huffed something that was probably a laugh, just a burst of air from his nose and a small twist of his mouth in acknowledgement. 

Jhonny nodded, trusting that that would be enough. Then he followed the others up the hill. 

“Logan,” Countess Anise said, shaking her head. “Playing the part of the helpless victim. This should be… interesting.” 

“Yeah,” Jhonny agreed. “He doesn’t strike me as an actor.”

The Countess gave Jhonny a cryptic smile that he automatically hated, and directed his attention to the scene below, where a woman in white and red robes and several armed men had stopped Logan in his tracks. 

They were too far away for Jhonny to make out the woman’s dialogue but Logan… 

Logan was showboating. 

“Oh dear!” he said loudly, sounding almost theatrically bored. “Oh Mercy! The White Mantle is upon me. Woe! Lamentation! Is this the end for poor Logan?” 

Jhonny covered his mouth to hide the smile and stifle the laugh. 

Logan raised his arm and shouted, “Now!” 

Jhonny slid down the muddy hill with his greatsword drawn, Betty charging at his side. The cultists’ surprise granted them a few seconds of advantage and Jhonny savored every one. A few cultists singled him out as the weak link: he was unarmored and not Countess Anise. When he was surrounded he pulled the mists around him, sinking half into Grenth’s domain to siphon the life from several bodies at once. 

He and Logan made a pretty good team, actually. Logan’s shield giving Jhonny the defense he lacked and Jhonny’s greatsword extended past Logan’s reach. 

Eventually the White Mantle lay defeated and Jhonny sank his greatsword into the mud to lean on it, completely disrespecting the blade.

The blade was pitted and chipped anyway. It was fine. “At least that’s over.” 

Countess Anise sniffed disdainfully. “I think we were too easy on them, personally. After multiple attempted murders and abusing the memory of your parents, they got off light.” 

“They are lying face down leaking red into the mud,” Jhonny pointed out, the reminder about his parents stinging. 

Nineteen years of trying not to think about them made it second nature. But now he had remembered and it… hurt. His parents had been people. Enough that the evil fairytale cult from Kryta’s past was trying to murder him over it. 

A gauntleted hand came down on his shoulder. “Will you be alright?” 

Jhonny closed his eyes and tried to focus on how weird it was that Logan Godsdamn Thackeray was asking after his well-being instead of on the empty ache of a past he didn't know.

“I… yeah,” he said. “I’ll be alright.” 

He didn't feel like he'd be alright, but there also wasn't another choice. Life would go on. He hadn't had parents a week ago and he wouldn't have parents a week in the future. He was an adult. 

Exemplar Mehid cleared his throat and looked to Countess Anise for permission, receiving a short nod, before opening his mouth to speak. “Speaking of your parents… With this phase of the operation complete, I can tell you that Sahlia and I have located your parents’ last known residence.” 

Jhonny’s jaw dropped open but even in his elation, and confusion, and anger, and hurt, he couldn’t shake the knowledge that he was only being told because Countess Anise permitted it.

He hated her. 

“Where is it?” 

“We can take you there,” Sahlia said. “The house is south of the Delanian Foothills, and if there’s anything worth finding, we’ll find it.” 

Logan gave him a smile. “We’ll have that beer when you get back.” 

“Right,” Jhonny said, feeling very surreal. “Wouldn’t miss it.”  

-----------------

The trip to the Delanian Foothills was reasonably short, and yet still long enough for Jhonny to drive himself mad with ruminations. He felt like this was the furthest he'd been from the city, but if this was where he was from… then it wasn't. And that felt… weird. He stared at the abandoned homestead, the dilapidated buildings and broken fences, hoping something, anything would trigger a memory. 

There were wisps, mostly forgotten hazes of have I been here? But how much was remembering and how much was wishful thinking was anyone's guess. 

Someone had taken him to Divinity's Reach. Someone had given the priestess only his first name. Someone had left him with half an amulet and a lifetime of questions, resentment, and bitterness. Why wasn't he worth keeping? If it had been the White Mantle’s fault they probably would have just slit his throat then. Baby killing didn’t seem outside the realm of possibility for the cult. 

Salia gave him an apologetic look. “Countess Anise asked us not to say more than necessary, as this is technically a royal matter, but… I think you deserve what truth we can give you. Your parents… a lot of your family going back… were Shining Blade. They helped track and destroy White Mantle cells, saving many lives in the process.” 

“So you knew this was their house?” He hated Countess Anise. 

Mehid nodded. “Yes. The last message on file from your parents states that they feared White Mantle cultists had discovered their secret. They were planning to flee.”

Salia’s apologetic look deepened. “The Shining Blade lost contact with them after that. Either they fled to safety or…” 

“For my own sake, I have to believe they didn’t flee and leave me behind,” Jhonny said. It felt awful, hoping his parents were dead rather than had abandoned him, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't face the truth of being that unwanted. Discarded on purpose.

“I’m sure if they did they had a very good reason,” said Mehid, trying to be helpful.

What good reason was there for leaving your son completely in the dark? For throwing him aside? He’d grown up with an amulet and an unreliable friend. Until Andrew had taken a chance on him one person had been genuinely kind to him and that was the Priestess who raised him. He’d turned to crime and violence to survive. 

Jhonny just turned his attention to the run down house. Whatever answers existed, if they existed, existed inside. 

The house itself had been looted and squatted in, what furniture remained was busted or disintegrating, or both. Pressing forward, Jhonny found a door in a place where there shouldn't have been a door, only noticeable because the cabinet in front of it was mostly just lumber now. It opened to a small cave, and there, Jhonny found the answers he had been looking for. Magic fire burned blue to illuminate two small graves, like it was trying to keep the light even here. The tombstones were modest, simple slabs accounting for a husband and wife who had died for the country they loved. Trying to make a better world for their son, Jhonnen. 

Jhonny curled to his knees in front of and between the two markers and buried his face in his hands, horrid, wretched sobs jerking his chest and shoulders.

Mehid and Salia did Jhonny the courtesy of turning away while he wept. 

Knowing they were dead was one thing. Having it confirmed was… was quite another. Knowing they had loved him was almost unbearable. 

He had hated them for so long. Hated them, tried to forget that he hadn't spontaneously come to exist within Queen's Heart. 

When he finished he dried his eyes and drew himself to standing, turning back to the exemplars. “Do we know who set these gravestones?” 

They both shook their heads, but Mehid… hesitated for a moment before he did. 

They knew something. 

“Friends?” Offered Sahlia, “Fellow agents? Whomever it was was likely the same person as took you to Divinity’s Reach, to safety.” 

Jhonny nodded, he was used to questions that would never have answers and he wasn't going to get anything out of The Shining Blade that Countess Anise didn't want him to have.

“Look, I know you probably know, and if you don't, Countess Anise certainly does. Just … thank them for me.”

Salia nodded, silently confirming that she knew, and also that they weren't going to tell him.

------------------

Logan showed up at the tavern out of his armor and settled on one of the bar stools. Jhonny spotted him while hauling a tub full of dirty dishes. Without a word he put the dishes by the sink and moved to take the seat beside Logan. 

Andrew looked confused but served two flagons of ale that the two men took and put to their lips in silence. 

“Sorry about your parents,” Logan said, after a drink. He lowered his flagon and turned his head to look at Jhonny. “Are you—” 

Jhonny shrugged, interrupting. “I already knew they were dead. It just makes me… it makes me think.” He took another drink of his ale. It was bitter, grounding. He filled his lungs with air. “Maybe I should take after them.” He never would have dreamed about going fully legitimate, but it felt like the only thing he could do to honor the parents who had loved him and the mysterious Shining Blade who had saved him. 

It was also, selfishly, his best chance to get answers.

Logan cocked an eyebrow. “The Seraph could use you.” 

“I’d rather work for you than Countess Anise anyway.” Jhonny managed a smile. “Steel is still not my color though.”

Logan snorted a little laugh. “I did see you first, she’ll have to recruit on her own.” 

“Is that how it works, whoever saw the candidate first gets to recruit them?” 

“If it gets you in a Seraph uniform and not a Shining Blade one? Then yes,” Logan took another drink. “Yes it does.” 

“I'm not wearing the armor.”

Logan smiled. “We can work around it.”

[anghraine]

Aww, I'm really pleased that Sieran won my silly GW2 poll, and also that I'm not completely alone in my Trillia Problem (much less my Anise and Marjory problems <3).

[i-mybrunettelady]

Ok Ren and Countess Anise? They kinda have similar vibes (not an insult to Ren)

@commanderfloppy

Oh, it's not an insult - I love Anise's vibes, even if I don't necessarily like Anise, if that makes sense? I'm personally pretty ambivalent of Anise, all things considered!

But Ren and Anise? Ren does think Anise's kinda hot; they've met and have had interactions. Anise knows Ren's a spy. But as I've written somewhere ages ago, Ren's also kinda afraid of Anise. Anise is someone she does not wanna dig info on. It's a skill recognises skill situation.

Ship rating: 8/10, spy lesbians go brrrr

[saclarclay]

Ladies don’t start fights, but they can finish them

Slay n slay💅

Pose reference from the pretty wrestler sakisama 😩🙏✨✨✨

No i have never played the southsun cove event tbh but i wish i could

[wall-legion]

Don't Make Me

Countess Anise hated coming to Lion's Arch. It was so disorderly and uncouth compared to Divinity's Reach. She sniffed as she passed a female charr, dressed in pirate's garb and arm in arm with a norn male who was dressed similarly. Pirates, she thought to herself with a sniff. What is their council thinking, letting piracy continue unchecked in their ports? But then again their council was mostly run by current and former pirates, so one had to take that into consideration she supposed.

She tipped her chin up and picked up her pace through the streets, wishing she had sent Logan on this errand instead for a brief moment... but no, he would be useless, as usual. Thackeray was a tool, a hammer to swing when you had a nail in sight, but otherwise he was too much "of the people" to be practical when it came time for anything that required more than a little finesse and likely any words that would come up with more than two syllables. Beyond that, her target was one of his little projects so that would likely have led to him getting distracted by small talk. No, as badly as she would have liked to avoided this whole job by sending him in her place, she knew deep down she needed to be the one to do this.

It took another few minutes of walking and a brief stop to check her directions with a local, but finally she stopped in front of her destination: a narrow, two-story building that clearly housed a storefront on the first floor and all its living space in the upstairs. The small wooden sign hung over the door read "Rose and Moon Soapcrafting". As she watched, someone left and called a goodbye over their shoulder through the door.

Good. She was home.

Anise strode forward, pulling the door open to step inside and slide to the side to hopefully disappear from sight. There were a few other people in the shop at the moment, a norn woman who appeared to be making a delivery to the girl while a charr couple appeared to be shopping together and an asura was browsing on their own. The girl was cheerily thanking the norn for the delivery, and hadn't appeared to notice that Anise had entered at all.

She tentatively took a few more steps to the side, as her target started focusing on the charr couple, so she could peek through the door behind the counter. Her breath caught in her throat at what she saw next.

The rumors were true: she was harboring a monster. It was tall enough that if it stood up straight its head would touch the ceiling, had two extra limbs emerging from its back to hand it tools and bottles from the shelves, and eyes the color of bloodstone.

Eyes that were now meeting hers, and narrowing.

"Who are you?" it said, setting down the bowl it was holding and starting towards her. Despite herself, Anise stepped backwards and reached for her scepter.

That was when the world froze for her.

"No weapons in my shop." The girl finally came out from behind the counter, holding a shield that was faintly glowing. She must have had it under the counter, Anise thought as she watched her easily slide it onto her back. "This is a nice establishment, after all."

"Could have fooled me," Anise managed to growl through her magically-shut teeth.

"And here I thought the nobility were taught manners. Silly me." She turned to look at the asura. "I'll be right back with you for that order for Bayside Boutique in just a moment. Let me deal with... this."

The asura just tittered. "Oh please. Don't rush on my account."

Anise would have grimaced if she could, but instead she was picked up by the thing and lugged into the back, only to be tied up in a chair just in time for the spell to drop. She took the opportunity to kick the beast in one of the arms as it was finishing a knot. "You should have died in the jungle with the rest of your disgusting siblings-"

"I know." It tied her legs to the chair after that and stood up, eyes downcast. "I know." With that, it left her, and she sat in the back room of the soap shop for at least twenty minutes before the girl finally came back to join her.

"I apologize for Sheridan," she said as she entered, with the monster- apparently she called it Sheridan- not far behind. She produced a dagger from a fold of her skirt. "They're very protective."

"It's certainly something. How'd you teach it to talk?"

Odetta frowned sharply at that. "They knew how to talk when they were a sylvari, and retained it through the blighting." She cut the ropes away and Anise stood up, stretching briefly. "What do you want?" "I'm here to speak to you in regards to the recent... phenomenon that occurred in Garenhoff." Odetta's eyebrow quirked at that. "Are you accusing me of making an entire tower of disappearing, Countess? I had a very large order to complete for Mr. Oskar Garoldsen of the Bayside Boutique, I didn't have time for that kind of nonsense."

"Besides that, Odetta would never do anything of that sort. She is too kind." "Thank you, Sheridan." "Too kind, perhaps, to freaks," Anise muttered. "And what is that supposed to mean-?" the thing snarled. Anise recoiled at seeing the mouthful of fangs it had. She couldn't recall any of the Mordrem she had seen to have teeth such as these. "Kindly recall your snapdragon, before I have to do something you'll regret." "Sheridan." Odetta laid a hand on its arm and looked up at it. "Please. It's fine. The countess will be brief and then she'll leave. Won't she?" Anise watched as the Mordrem backed off, and privately wondered when the orphan had grown such a backbone. "As I was saying, the incident in Garenhoff has her majesty's attentions, and she is requesting that it be addressed promptly. I'm sure you know that your commander is... well..." "Commander Firstblood is in the process of getting married as I understand it, via Olmakhan customs," Odetta said cheerily. The girl seemed to revel in celebrating the other races' weirdness. "We've received an invite." "Goody. And of course the others who have previously been commanders in your guild-" "Oaklinna stepped down after Traehearne's passing, and Vezz and Rissia have their children to mind now." "Of course. But most importantly, her majesty wishes this to be handled... well, this requires a human touch." Odetta gave her a long look. "The elder dragons never required a specific race. Why start now?" "Because Garenhoff specifically lies within human territories, and has for a very long time. We don't know who is in that tower, and the last thing we should be doing is sending another race in there to muck up anything we could potentially utilize-!" Anise drew herself up. She had misspoke, and she knew it. Odetta stood very straight, blue eyes glowing faintly from her magic starting to build. "Countess, I may have been a citizen of Divinity's Reach and of the Queen, but I left it behind as soon as I was of adult age. I've lived here in Lion's Arch- which, I'll remind you since you and apparently Queen Jennah seem to have forgotten, is not a part of the kingdom she reigns over- for almost ten years now. I have this little business now. I have my friends. Do you think I give one shard of bark off Melandru's leafy ass about where you two want me to go?" She flicked her hands, and Anise looked down to see a portal start opening beneath her. "I took a moment after Sheridan saw to you to go to the beach and place the end portal for you. I think a little fresh sea air would do you a world of good, Countess. Clear your head and get those silly ideas about me leaping when you say 'jump' out." "You wouldn't-" Anise started. "I would." Odetta made the final movement for the spell with her left hand, and Anise felt herself start to fall. "Do give the Queen my best. And good luck with that tower problem." As soon as the other woman was gone and her shrill, angry scream had stopped emerging from the portal, Odetta quickly moved to close the portal so she couldn't come back through before sitting down in the now empty chair. "You were very brave just now," Sheridan said after a moment. "Thank you," Odetta said. "I didn't feel brave. I felt terrified." "Well, you didn't let it show. -I locked the front door and put the closed sign up, to be safe." "Oh, Sheridan, you're a blessing." There was a noise on the stairs behind Sheridan, and they both immediately looked as someone started down the stairs from their residence above. What began as panic though, gave way to relief and slight embarrassment as it was only Leyya. "What in the Alchemy was all that noise?" she demanded. "I woke up to someone shrieking!" "...we'll explain over a cup of tea."

[herald-of-aurene]

Finished re-redesign of Countess Anise (or at least her form when she was alive)

[skaald-of-the-hearth-fires]

DoF:RefTE chapter 1 - Centaurs in Shaemoor

Dreams of Freedom: Reforging the Edge

Chapter one: Centaurs in Shaemoor | (AO3 link)

“CAPTAIN!”

Logan looks up from his desk in surprise, startled, mind running through all the possibilities of what can it be now? and already thinking of who he can assign to protect Queen Jennah. As always, of course, he wonders if he should just do that himself and not leave it up to chance (however miniscule). Then he sees that it is only Lieutenant Groban, who had been to Shaemoor Garrison, just outside the city, to get a report.

But Groban is standing in the massive door of Seraph Headquarters with wind-blown hair and a desperate expression on his face, and Logan blinks, this time just confused. Shaemoor is only just outside of Divinity’s Reach, nothing could have scared him too badly. To be fair, Logan reflects bemusedly, he doesn’t leave the walls of the city that often… perhaps he was frightened by something relatively mundane. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

“Centaurs, Captain! At the garrison!”

Logan raises an eyebrow in surprise and not a little confusion - the nearest centaurs are quite a ways southeast of Shaemoor. He checks the reports scattered around his desk. Out in the Krytan Freeholds, in fact. The centaurs couldn’t have got past the Seraph forces in the area without a lot of effort, manpower (or horsepower? Logan never knows), and most importantly, time - nearly two days’ travel, assuming they didn’t flat-out gallop the whole distance. There’s no way the Seraph wouldn’t have had warning. "How did they - ?”

“I don’t know, Captain, but they’re there. If they get past the garrison, Divinity’s Reach itself will be in danger.”

Logan furrows his brow. That's true... he admits reluctantly to himself, finally accepting the gravity of the situation. He nods at Groban. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Send runners to the Krytan Freeholds. We need to know how the centaurs got past the Seraph there without being stopped… or even noticed.” Logan pauses and frowns. The Wintersday festival was just yesterday, which might be enough to explain any lack of attention… but a whole troop of centaurs passing right outside the walls? That’s hard to miss.

The whole situation is… fishy. But Logan needs more information - he doesn’t know if the centaurs at the garrison came from the Krytan Freeholds at all, and if not, how they did get to the garrison. He doesn’t know how many centaurs there are at the garrison, or - well, he doesn’t know much of anything yet. That is easily remedied.

Logan glances at the lieutenant. He seems to have calmed down a bit. Groban could do with more time in the field anyway, Logan reflects. “Correction: go yourself, and get me a timeline of the centaurs’ movements. Handle the disposition of the troops stationed at the Freeholds once you’ve gathered all relevant information. Dismissed.”

Lieutenant Groban comes to attention and salutes, thumping his chest, before turning and striding out of Seraph Headquarters.

Logan speaks to the other Seraph in the room. “Someone send to Shaemoor Garrison for a report on the strength of centaur forces there and the ability of the Seraph stationed within the garrison to withstand the attack.” A corporal salutes and hurries off. Logan calls after him, “find out how soon their shift changes, too!” Logan himself had been looking forward to heading home to Rurikton soon, but it seems those plans will have to be delayed.

In any case, Shaemoor Garrison had not, in Logan’s memory, ever had to withstand any attacks. The centaurs had never pressed so far north before, and the garrison, as a result, is only lightly defended. Logan usually sends new graduates of the Seraph Training Academy there for some risk-free experience ‘in the field.’ The centaur attack, however, may be similarly light. Hopefully.

Logan glances across his desk, looking for anything on the small village that Shaemoor Garrison defends, then turns to one of his aides. “Get me the files on Shaemoor and the surrounding fields. I need to know the significance of the land we’re defending.”

The man nods, rummaging through some papers on the long desk Logan shares with his aides, and finally comes up with a stack of papers. Shuffling through them all briefly, he says, “Lieutenant Francis is the ranking officer in Shaemoor, sir, and the village’s primary complaint is bandits. It’s mostly farmland and there aren’t many Seraph on patrol except in the village itself, so the outlaws are… unrestrained. I believe Shaemoor’s fields are the primary source of food supply to Divinity’s Reach."

“Ahh.” Logan sits back thoughtfully while his aide goes through the papers more thoroughly. Valuable land, then - to be protected at all costs. Divinity’s Reach wouldn’t survive a siege without it - Shaemoor Garrison is the last defense. Logan's breath hitches momentarily. “Is the garrison the village's only defense?”

“The only man-made defense, sir. Shaemoor Garrison straddles the river - Altar Brook - which goes around all the east and south side, and there’s a mountain to the southwest… that the civilians have nicknamed the Bandithaunt Caverns… I…” he tilts his head at the paper. “I guess it’s got caverns in it…?”

Logan tunes him out for the moment. He doesn't need to hear about the bandits - he'd done what he could about them long ago. Between a mountain and a river, Shaemoor Garrison is a quite tactically useful choke point for holding off the centaurs… but if it fails, not only do the civilians in Shaemoor get trampled over, but Divinity’s Reach could be sieged easily and starved out within five weeks - less, coming out of winter and with no spring crops in production yet. Logan realizes his heartbeat had sped up in anxiety, but he forces himself to hold his leisurely position. His men can't see him worried. A siege is not a likely possibility, Logan reminds himself. A large enough force to achieve that could not have gotten this far without being noticed.

Logan takes a deep breath. “Who’s the ranking officer at the garrison itself?”

“Lieutenant Ryder, sir.”

“Ah, an experienced man, then." Logan nods decisively. "And he has Lieutenant Francis in the village for backup. They’ll do fine, with sufficient manpower.” He'll have to keep an eye on the situation, of course. IT wouldn't do to let such a strange threat go unmonitored so close to home.

A minute later, the massive doors of Seraph HQ open to admit a Seraph soldier. “Captain, I have a report on Shaemoor.”

“Continue,” Logan says, leaning back in his chair.

“Centaurs are currently attacking the garrison. They seem to have a temporary camp on the southern edge of Scaver Plateau and are only sending forces in small waves. It’s a sizable force at the camp, but the garrison is holding - for now at least. Our lieutenant requests replacements for the newer soldiers so he can get them out of the frontline fighting, and reinforcements to handle the centaurs when they decide to mount a full-scale attack. He’ll need more than the command stationed in the village, and he’s already using twice the manpower.”

"Where'd he get extra manpower from already?” Logan questions with a frown.

“The centaurs hit us right at our shift change, Captain. The lieutenant kept the day shift on guard to help the night shift with the defense.”

Logan grimaces, but otherwise doesn't let his worry show on his face. That’s over half the men on duty tired from a day of service. These centaurs have far too much information on Seraph troops and movements. More than Logan’s own active information, at that. “Send as many men as he needs,” Logan says aloud to his aide, who scribbles notes frantically. “Call in men from Altar Brook Crossing, even Claypool if need be. We may need them - we still don’t know how the centaurs got here or where they came from.” There may also be Seraph forces incoming from Krytan Freeholds, too, depending on Groban’s findings.

“Yes, Captain!” The man salutes with a thump of his fist to his chest, and leaves.

Logan takes a deep breath to settle his nerves and stretches slightly. He had never been built for desk work, and rather itches to be on the battlefield where he can actually be helping instead of gathering information. But, alas, such are the trials of love. With that thought, Logan rises from his desk. “I need to report to the queen. Send Lieutenant Groban to me when he returns.”

~oOoOo~

Logan enters Queen Jennah’s throne room and bows with a flourish. Jennah would not have minded if he’d strode right up to her - and Logan certainly would have preferred to - but appearances must be maintained, for nobles, ministers, and commoners alike. They need to see the Seraph Captain showing proper respect and deference. Logan hides a smile; showing the Chamber of Ministers that the queen has the full support of her military is one of his favorite pastimes. It wouldn’t do to let them forget, after all. So he follows the forms with all the respect and dignity he can muster. Passionate embraces can be saved for… less public spaces.

Jennah meets his eyes with a warm smile from across the room. "Ah, Logan!” She beckons him come closer.

Logan approaches gladly. “My queen,” he murmurs, kissing her hand. Now, that part of the ritual… well. But there is business to be done.

Straightening, he goes on, “I’m afraid there’s no time for pleasantries. Centaurs are sieging Shaemoor Garrison as we speak - threatening the Village of Shaemoor and the Shaemoor Fields, farmland that provides for most of Divinity’s Reach. Even more worrying, we don’t know how they got so far into Kryta.”

Jennah frowns. “Where were they before?”

“At closest? Krytan Freeholds, beyond the Eldvin Monastery. Our usual battle lines are drawn even further out, past Beetletun and Guardian’s Pass.”

“And you say they threaten the city?”

Logan forces himself to let go of the tension between his shoulders. “The lieutenant at Shaemoor Garrison isn’t certain he can hold out for long. I’m gearing up the Seraph to assist them already. The centaurs also have displayed an uncanny knowledge of our operations - shift changes particularly. I’m confident we can handle it, but it’s a worrying development.”

“I agree,” Jennah says softly. She sighs. “I do not see the point of continuing to spend lives on this war. Is there any chance of a parlay?”

"I wish," Logan mutters resentfully. How do they know our shift changes?? He takes a deep breath to calm himself. “You know we’ve tried before, Your Majesty. They won’t settle for anything, reasonable or unreasonable - they want to claim all of Kryta and do who knows what with humanity. Kill us all, possibly; or enslave us. Most generously, I can imagine they’d pack us off to some remote corner of the country while they have free rein of the rest.” He shakes his head, anger bubbling in his chest. The centaur war had been taking its toll on the people for far too long.

Countess Anise speaks up from Queen Jennah’s right hand, almost like the lady-in-waiting she pretended to be. “Their view is understandable. By nature, we shouldn’t even be here - we’re relative newcomers to this world, and the centaurs know it best of all. They have better reason to than most - well, save the charr, and we’re at war with them, too. Excuse me, ceasefire. Of course the centaurs resent our presence on their land.”

“We can’t exactly leave,” Logan replies sharply.

“Of course not, Captain,” Anise says easily. “It is a tragedy that we’ll have to beat them into submission the hard way, but one that must be endured. What concerns me more is their appearance out of nowhere - right at twilight and the day after Wintersday, no less.”

“I have scouts on the problem already,” Logan says, speaking more to Jennah than her advisor. “They’ll take longer to report in, but I thought you should know of the situation. I’ll let you know when I know more. Also, I may draw Seraph from the city to supplement our ranks in Shaemoor.”

“That is good to know,” Jennah tells him. “Thank you.” She hesitates. “Might I suggest going to the garrison yourself? You’ve seemed restless of late - the combat will do you good.”

Logan frowns. “I’d like to, but I should stay where I can coordinate things…” He's still waiting for Groban to report in about where the centaurs came from, and then he has to make executive decisions from there; he needs to find out where the centaurs got their information and plug that leak; he has to be able to reallocate men to the garrison as needed; he needs to be able to respond quickly to any new information that might come in - surprise attacks elsewhere in the kingdom, for example -

Countess Anise grins at him. “You mean you should stay where you can keep an eye on the queen? Don’t worry your head, Captain - nothing will befall her.”

“With Divinity’s Reach itself in danger from a threat that materialized out of nowhere, I’ll ‘worry my head’ until I’m one hundred percent sure she is safe,” Logan snaps. “As should you.”

“Oh, I do," Anise says with a slow smile. "Concern yourself first with the centaurs at the gate, Captain, and leave me to handle our… internal affairs.”

That means Anise suspects an information leak or inside job of some kind. Logan wishes he could investigate and manage everything. But Anise has her job, he has his, and…

Jennah smiles at him. “Go, fight your battles, Logan. I’ll be here when you return.”

Logan bows, then turns and leaves the throne room. He really should stay at Seraph HQ and coordinate... But a command from his queen is a command from his queen.

But he won’t stop worrying about her.

[jennyandvastraflint]

Fanfiction snippet for something I'll post next week, probably...

Teen Anise/Jennah from Guild Wars 2!

Jennah’s hands shook a little as she focused on the image of a butterfly she’d been shown. It was one of the easiest lessons in Mesmer magic, yet she struggled visualising it in her head. She had never been good at that part. If she worked with a picture, saw what she was supposed to do right in front of her, magic came easy.

Her dark eyes flitted to Anise, and she relaxed her tensed shoulders at Anise’s encouraging smile. She shut her eyes, remembered the butterflies Anise’s illusions always dissolved in before turning into a shower of purple sparks, and let the magic flow.

Anise gasped, and Jennah burst her eyes open, startled to see a hundred butterflies burst from her hands. One landed on Anise’s arm, and her brows furrowed. One of the wings was chipped, an imperfection found in every butterfly she had just created.

Anise stepped closer, and Jennah quickly dissolved the butterflies.

“Allow me to help you?” Anise asked softly, and Jennah couldn’t do more than nod.

Hope you like it!!! 🥰

[rosy-opal-commander]

I wonder when they're gonna announce Livia and Anise are Mother Daughter. Because that's been swimming in my head for two years now.