Guardian Initiation: Feb 2016 (For Simon and Illya)

[brightwitch]

It's a bright but chilly day in Westminster as the new Guardians make their way to the Night Council headquarters to be initiated. They are directed to a large study where they wait nervously for their turn to stand before the Council. There's a large, empty fireplace, a live crow perched in an iron cage by the mantelpiece, a bookcase of old and dusty tomes (mostly supernatural history and biographies) and several overstuffed leather armchairs. The bay window affords a view over Whitehall.

The crow watches with beady eyes. You get the sense it's watching you.

The initiates are called one by one. A woman wearing glasses pops her head into the study every few minutes to collect the next one. She'll take you to a large dimly lit chamber, usher you in, then leave, closing the door behind you.

At first glance, you'd be forgiven for thinking that you're surrounded by people. The chamber is circular and around the walls there are standing figures, men and women, life-size. They're statues in various poses, some with their hands in front of their faces as if trying to protect themselves. The expressions carved into their faces are mostly grimaces and many of them are wide-eyed, perhaps shocked or fearful.

But the statues are just decoration. There are real people here: the Council members, sitting in front of you. They're arranged in a rough semi circle around a table, with the President Sylvia Redbright in the centre. Her seat is raised above the others, almost a throne. She's directly ahead of you.

Also directly ahead of you, between you and the Council members, is a small square table upon which sits a thick sheaf of paper and a golden pen. Both have a magical aura. The paper is high quality, printed on in black ink and bears the seal of the Night Council. It runs to twelve pages.

Sylvia nods at you, smiling. "Welcome. Don't worry, you've already done the hard part. This is just a formality, nothing more. I'm going to ask you to repeat a few words, sign the contract, and then we're done." She glances at her fellow representatives and they each stand up, Sylvia included. "Step forward and place your hand on the contract." She gestures with her palm flat, and waits for you to follow her lead. "Repeat after me. 'I stand here before the Night Council to swear an oath. I am a Guardian of the Night Council. From this moment on, I pledge my allegiance to the Night Council, in life and in death eternal. I swear to devote myself to the Night Council, to the protection of its members, and to my duties as a Guardian. I swear this by everything I hold sacred and dear in the world.'"

She pauses, then indicates the contract on the table. "There's a space for you to sign your name on the bottom of the first page. Go ahead and sign it."

As you step forward, Gilbert Norrell, the Witch Representative on the end of the row, stands up. He fusses his clothing smooth, then comes over to stand and watch as the document is signed with impatient, beady eyes. Any hesitation is met with thin-lipped disapproval. When you're done, he takes the document and strides back to his seat while the other Council members sit down.

"Thank you," Sylvia says. She smiles. "And congratulations! We look forward to working with you. Before you go, I'm obliged to inform you of one more thing. The contract you signed is magically binding. It will hold you to your word, and there will be consequences if you break it. Any Guardian who fails to abide by the terms of their contract will turn to stone."

She pauses a moment to let that sink in. The statues around you, were they...?

Sylvia clears her throat, but Norrell only offers a faintly patronising smile. She goes on: "We don't expect that to happen, of course, but for reasons of security we must ask that you keep this a secret." Her tone is matter-of-fact, laying down the law. "You are bound by the terms of your contract not to reveal those terms. That means you cannot discuss the oath at all, or make any attempt to reveal it to anyone else, whether in speech, writing or any other form of communication. Every Guardian makes the same oath and none of you can speak of it."

The eyes of the Council members are staring down at you, every one of them serious, stern. Your secret will not leave this room, any more than the stone statues can wake up and walk themselves out of here.

Norrell speaks. "It is a life long commitment, but one I am sure you will come to find rewarding."

Finally, Sylvia waves a hand, dropping the formal tone. "I want to say again, thank you. We do truly appreciate your commitment to the Night Council, and all the good work that you'll be doing not just for us, but for the whole country. We'll keep your contract here at headquarters and if you want to come back and read it in more detail, you can do so. Your training starts tomorrow. I wish you the very best of luck."

Best of luck, newbie. You've been officially initiated.

Comments

[hurtfew]

Norrell appears faintly soothed by this knowledge, and shifts his grip on his papers.

"That will do very well!" he declares, "I have often employed members of Hillingdon in the past, but although they are hunters they are not always the best at personal security or the intricacies of something like this! It has become a very dangerous job, and I have had numerous threats against my person! From the fae, especially! Are you familiar with the fae?"

He blinks his small, pale eyes at Illya curiously -- apparently intent on assessing his merit as personal bodyguard. After all, Guardians are meant to protect the Night Council -- although perhaps not 24/7 one member.

[fatherswatch]

"I am," Illya responds with a faint smile, bowing his head politely. "I trust you already wear silver or iron. Depending, of course, on whether vampires are also a problem, sir."

It seemed best not to mention details of his service. After all, few understood that an agent in his position had to work whatever side he was told. So, the less said, the better, for he had worked for and against almost every group. Including werewolves.

[hurtfew]

"Of course! Although vampires are not so much a problem -- we have an agreement of sorts with Islington, both from the perspective of the Night Council having one aboard and my own personal work with them through Daybreak. Although that does not account for those who are not with the nest, or who disagree such actions -- of which there are a few!"

Something that Norrell looks thoroughly scandalised by. Dissent is not something he approves of! The world would be a much simpler place and better place if everyone followed the rules properly and fell into line.

[fatherswatch]

"Da." In this case, it's better to play up being Russian. Being other. He's quite used to it. "I am still learning how the politics of London are different. In Russia, we do not have the problem of vampires against werewolves. Usually."

There were always variations, but it wasn't as prevalent as it seemed to be here.

[hurtfew]

"I have heard this! It is different for other countries, I think, although matters here are also changing too! Just recently a peace offering was made between them of territory, and the wolves supported us in driving back the fae -- a thing I did not expect!"

Explaining things is something that pleases Norrell greatly, and the more he explains to Illya the more pleased he seems to become. He enjoys little so much as playing at teacher (within reason), as speaking to someone he knows more than and educating them.

"I suppose it is because they understand the great threat the fae have become! That we must all work to drive them out and block them from returning to this realm!"

[fatherswatch]

"I wonder if it will last," Illya murmurs idly. Whether he means the truce between the vampires and werewolves or the threat of the fae or the ability to block the fae... he doesn't clarify. He is here, ultimately, as an observer.

"Still. If there is anything you need, sir, I hope to be able to help."

[hurtfew]

"Oh, to be sure! I may have something..."

He thinks a moment, frowning absently away at some spot in the wall as he does so, then nodding to himself.

"I have a few appearances, the sort which would very much benefit from extra security, and a meeting -- I am so very busy, you understand, so very busy! I will think on it, but this will be a great help. A great help indeed!"

[fatherswatch]

Illya offers a polite nod. Then, there is one very important question to ask.

"I only need to know if you want the security seen or not."

Because he is, surprisingly, good at both. Either being an imposing figure or keeping out of sight but able to watch everything.

[hurtfew]

It is a good question, to be sure, and one that Norrell considers for a long moment.

"I suppose it would depend on the occasion," he says finally, "sometimes it is good for security to be seen. It sends a message! Other times... in more... delicate situations that is not advisable."

Like, for example, when you are meant to trust a person. A big show of security somewhat implies the opposite.

[fatherswatch]

"I can provide either, should you need it, sir. I believe the Night Council will have my contact information."

Should he say it? It was always hard to tell. To judge the people asking for his help. But, well. He could say something about other matters later. For now, he would keep things official.

[hurtfew]

"Of course! And I have no doubt that I will! Yes, perhaps I should contact you at the right time -- no doubt you have some settling in to do as well! Do you know our existing Guardians? You should meet them, learn your way around! Oh, and there will be plenty of reading to do too on our laws and the application of them!"

He beams happily, since the prospect of doing a lot of reading about law is one that appeals to a man like Norrell.

[fatherswatch]

The letter of the law, Illya knows, doesn't matter. How the people who have the power choose to administer the law does matter. And they will let him know what to do when. That, however, he won't say. Things he's learned through practical application is what actually matters.

"I have met one so far. I will meet the others."

[hurtfew]

"Be sure you do! Oh, and you should be certain to come see me if you have any questions. The politics of London can be complex, I know! I myself found it very difficult at first to negotiate, for I am not a man who enjoys small talk and parties! I prefer to spend time on my studies -- but oh, London is a very different place to York! Here one must put time into such things to recognised! The merit of one's studies alone is not enough to be recognised!"

A thing which Norrell clearly finds surprising and disappointing in equal parts, if his expression is anything to go on.

[fatherswatch]

A man who likes to hear himself talk. Illya knows those kind of people. He usually works for them, and it seems this is no different after all. He listens, even though he's only half paying any real attention.

"I am mostly a soldier," he replies, even if that's far from the truth. Unlike one of his associates, he can lie, and he makes use of that ability. "Politics and I are in different worlds."

[hurtfew]

"Then you understand!" he exclaims, "oh, it is so frustrating! To have so many doors closed to you, simply because you do not walk in the right circles yet! I wish things were otherwise, but," and here Norrell sighs wistfully -- offers Illya a tired smile. He is so set upon by difficulties, by things in his path! "It is something I have done my best to grow used to. I would like to think I have become tolerable at it!"

If 'tolerable' is how one would describe bullying one's way onto the Night Council and ousting people in one's way, then of course -- Gilbert Norrell is 'tolerable' at politics.