Absolution, Resolution.

“Wait, you think she has a Shard?” John asked, mind whirling. Back when Himiko had implanted the Shard of Bishamonten in his chest, the Order had hardly known about its purpose or much about the Shards in general. “What Shard do you think she has? And what abilities has it granted her?”

“We don’t know that much,” Moira said, voice both rueful and still chiding. “Information about Shards is extremely limited. Even Adantia was unable to provide us with much intelligence on specific uses of them, only more details about their origins.”

“Everyone knows the origins of the Shards,” Adantia said with a soft shrug. “At least, everyone who has ever had to deal with one of the annoying things. They’re the remnants of slain gods, the power and a bit of the attitude of them condensed into a crystal. Slightly less powerful than Fragments, and I suppose in theory a lot less powerful than whatever would get left behind if someone slew an Aspect. But knowing they exist isn’t the same as figuring out what they do.”

“Understandably, most who are in possession of these Shards are secretive, and though some of them are hunted, they can be particularly difficult to kill,” Lord Brighton said, his voice thoughtful as he scratched his red beard. “This makes it difficult to discern what abilities they gained as a result of the Shard, what came about from training and advancement, and what they simply had not shown off publicly before.”

“And sometimes Shards are lost, locked away, or kept hidden for years… or centuries, as yours seems to have been,” Moira said, eyeing John. “Not only did Isamu not go around announcing the fact that he bore the Shard of Bishamonten, but Himiko did an excellent job of obscuring its existence altogether. That’s likely why after she implanted it in you, we couldn’t find a single reference to it in any of the sources we checked. We only understand its abilities somewhat now, and that’s all based on what you’ve told us.”

“If we don’t know whether there actually is a Shard or not, and couldn’t figure out what it did even if we knew, how is this relevant to war planning?” John asked, brows furrowing.

“It’s just something we have to consider,” Lord Brighton said, sighing as he refocused his gaze on those present before him. “There are a lot of unfortunate implications to her having such a thing.”

“None of the resources we have access to have any record of a Shard boosting necromantic abilities to this extent,” Tricia intoned, voice even and yet somehow reverent. “The few known artifacts with strong enough enchantments to do this are accounted for. If she possesses a new one, that would be every bit as relevant – and every bit as unpredictable.”

“And if there is no lack of information, that implies she was able to slay a Shard herself, or enchant such a powerful object herself,” Etriyya finished.

“No matter what the truth of the matter may be, the implications are not great. You need to keep that in mind in battle,” Moira warned, her crimson brows knitting together as she gazed at John with concern. “If you forget that and are caught off guard during this war, John… the consequences could be far beyond dire.”

The weight of Moira’s words was heavy, but the implications of them were heavier still. John quirked an eyebrow at Moira as he let them sit in the air for a few moments.

“Is that… as good as permission?” John asked slowly, keeping his voice level.

“It’s- no, it’s not!” Moira said, her voice stiffening as she went on. “I would never give you permission for something as foolish and stubborn as you are now intending, John Newman! But… but all the same, I know that I cannot stop you. And despite the foolishness of your decision, for reasons that I treasure and curse, I want to support you. If you want to throw yourself at this war, I’ll have you sensible enough to survive it, John – even if I have to beat every ounce of that sense into you myself.

John cast his eyes toward Lord Brighton. He remembered Adantia’s words about how **** Moira’s father might be to protect her – and he saw some measure of that desperation reflected in the Lord Protector’s gaze.

“I don’t know what this war holds – victory, defeat, or a waking nightmare,” Lord Brighton cautioned, his gaze stern but warm. “But if it is a war you wish to fight, we will ensure you have our full might behind you.”

“Behind us,” Adantia emphasized, rolling her eyes as she cocked her head toward John.

“Didn’t take you for a glory hound,” John said, smirking as Adantia scowled.

“I’m not talking metaphorically. I agreed to come here and take part in this war to draw as much attention to myself as possible… for all the reasons we discussed.”

The last words were emphasized with such a dire tone that John was sure they were chosen intentionally to warn him, though John wasn’t sure what the warning was for, since he still didn’t know what Adantia had disclosed to Lord Brighton.

“But that being said, I expect you to be at the front with me, considering you dragged me into this mess,” Adantia said, her voice lowering until it was a half-growl. “You owe me that much at least, John Newman.”

The silence that fell over the room remained for a long beat, until John felt a strong hand gripping his shoulder from behind.

“You need not worry,” Sophia announced, her words loud and with a hint of a slur, but otherwise as proud and confident as ever. “My Father would never shy away from this conflict, given what rides on its outcome. He will lead us to victory, as always.”

“Sophia-” John cut himself off, eyeing the room. Moira looked surprised, Lord Brighton skeptical, and Adantia… well, she looked altogether too pleased with herself. Whether she had intentionally prodded Sophia’s **** state or not, John was annoyed all the same, and he could scarcely hide the frown on his face or the twitch in his eye as he responded.

“Sophia is right,” John finally said, sighing and composing himself. “I will join you in time, and fight alongside you… though given your little display in the courtyard, I’m not sure what you expect me to do.”

“You mentioned your abilities let you train rapidly, didn’t you?” Adantia’s voice was dangerously playful, a thoughtful finger wrapped around the cleft of her chin as she stared at John with blank eyes. “Yes… I remember you mentioning some girl named Kim who was jealous of how fast you could improve.”

“Err… rapidly? I suppose you could say that. But it would still take a massive effort and amount of time to get to the level where I could stand as an equal to you on the battlefield.”

“Equal?” Adantia snorted. “I was thinking more like someone I don’t have to worry about losing their head if I turn my back on them. I think you can manage that; despite your complete inability to prepare for anything, you managed a few cute tricks when we fought. Hey, Moira, right? You gave this kid a month to get back to you before, right?"

"That is... that was the approximate amount of time, yes. It wasn't a hard limit by any means," Moira clarified. "Why? What are you planning?" Adantia barely acknowledged the response, seeming too focused on what she was thinking about. If anything, he could see a slight grin tugging at the corners of her mouth as she seemed to finalize whatever internal thoughts she had going on... that or at the flush of annoyance that washed over Moira's face at being ignored.

“Yeah, a month sounds about right,” Adantia said thoughtfully, ignoring the reaction of those behind her as she faced John. “I like a little consistency – I’ll do the same thing. I expect you on the front lines in one month, John. That will give me time to seek out any of my old contacts that are still around – and to shore up whatever front lines are left by the time I make it there. I don’t care if you spend all month jacking off, but you better be ready for a war when you show up. If you’re not, I’ll punish you myself.”

“I understand,” John said, casting his gaze toward Moira. She seemed as indignant as before, but rather than interjecting, she focused her energy on trying to spontaneously combust Adantia’s dress. “I’ll be ready.”

“My Father is always ready,” Sophia boasted. “Whether it is combat by blade or by cock, he will-”

“He will be there, I get it,” Adantia said. The tone of her voice was serious, but the crack of a smile breaking across her face along with the peal of laughter she failed to contain made it obvious why she was cutting Sophia off. Her eyes danced along the amazonian woman’s face for a moment before she turned to the rest of the room, stealing their attention with an effortless sweep of her arms. “Anyone else have any objections to that? I expect all of you with a desire to fight to be there on the front lines with him.”

“No, we will be ready,” Moira said, nodding assuredly as the words creeped from between clenched teeth. “In one month’s time we will join you. Tricia will provide you with a communication device before you leave. Exactly when are you planning on leaving?”

If her face hadn’t already been impossible to miss, Moira’s tone made not the slightest attempt to conceal just how much happier she would be the moment that Adantia was out of her sight. For her own part, Adantia offered a quick shrug, as if it was the least important matter in the world.

“First thing in the morning, probably. That gives me tonight to rest up, try my old contacts, and get another good meal in me. Seriously, you have no idea how tired of preserved food you can get until you’re stuck in one place for that long.”

“You may have the guest room, since it will be for such a short period,” Lord Brighton said, nodding and tapping his desk a few times. Though there was only plain wood where he touched, a few golden runes materialized under his fingers. John’s instincts as to their purpose were proved right when two Knights opened the door a few moments later, bowing deeply while Lord Brighton instructed them to lead Adantia to the room in question. The moment that the door shut behind her, Moira let out a particularly loud growl and turned on John.

“Just once, could you bring someone along with you that has a modicum of respect and dignity?!” Moira said accusingly, poking her finger into John’s chest repeatedly.

“S-sorry!”

“Her casualness comes from many things, but let’s not forget a part of it is how little care she needs to take even in the company of strangers… this is a powerful ally John has brought to us. And a considerable opportunity,” Lord Brighton said, nodding thoughtfully to himself.

“What do you mean?” John asked.

“Just thoughts on what might happen when – if – we win this war,” Lord Brighton mused, eyes alight with thoughts he did not share. “Unless any of you have any further matters to discuss, I suggest that we go our separate ways for now. We all have a great many things to do in the coming month. John, I assume you will resume regular contact with us now that you have returned?”

The implication was clear, and John nodded without hesitation. “Yeah, I already freed the drone after the initial message. Tricia, you, um… you can start exploring and scanning my world again. I’m done hiding away, and I think you’ll be interested in some of the changes. Ask Orria about the garden she set up sometime.”

Tricia nodded, not turning her eyes away from the holographic screens in front of her… but John thought he saw a muted smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

“Then let us be off,” Lord Brighton said, standing from his desk. “Etriyya, come with me. I have a great deal of matters to discuss with the Knights and preparations to make with the blacksmiths.”

“Yes, Lord Protector,” Etriyya said, casting a glance backward as she exited the room with Lord Brighton. She hadn’t spoken directly to John much since his return, but there was something in the way she now stared at him. Something of shock, even awe, mixed with a flurry of emotions John didn’t quite understand. An improvement from the anger and disdain he’d grown used to a year ago, but a confusing one.

“John, are you going to return to your world now?” Moira asked, approaching with a look of weary calm.

“Yeah. I haven’t been back in my new world since Adantia joined up with us,” John admitted. “It’s been a rough couple of weeks, to be honest. I know I’ve been over there for a whole year, but the kittens will be going crazy without me. Maera and Mithra too. Mostly everyone, actually, even if a couple of them wouldn’t admit it. Why, did you need me to stick around for a while?”

“No. I mean, I wouldn’t mind it if you did, but I just…” Moira sighed, trying to pull herself together. “That’s not why I want to talk to you, this will only take a minute. Before you go, there was something I wanted to give you. There’s something I’ve had my father holding onto for a year now, and I wasn’t sure what to do with it, but…”

Moira’s words and tone set off some alarm in John’s mind, but as the Warden strode over to her father’s desk and rummaged through one of the drawers, it wasn’t something particularly troubling that she produced. There was a crystal in her hand, a large one to be sure, light-blue and glistening slightly in the light of the study. She held it as gingerly as she might have a small child, cupping it in two hands and approaching John with an unusual nervousness. Her eyes met his with hesitation before she slowly extended her hands toward him to offer him the crystal.

“This is one of the objects we recovered from the Albidian base. It’s an enchanted crystal, one that was powering one of their automata. One of their stronger warriors, the one I slew – he wasn’t a man, but a construct, an artificial being. This crystal was what animated him.”

John’s face twisted in a disgusted frown. He remembered well every face that he had seen at that tainted place, and though it took him a second to recall the exact person she was referring to, there was a vague recollection of a man with certain machine-like traits and markings, and little visible emotion or speaking.

“Why would I want that?” John asked, trying not to sound too disdainful of Moira’s ‘gift’. “Better off to destroy it.”

“I thought about it. But there was another solution, one that… reminded me of you,” Moira said shyly, a slight flush to her cheeks as she continued. “This is a very special and rare object, one of their more powerful artifacts, even among what we were able to find after securing their base. It’s known as an Artificial Spirit crystal. Implanting it in an object allows one to animate it. Normally, these crystals permanently store the memories, skills, experiences, thoughts, and everything else for the being that it creates. But there are ways – somewhat difficult ways, but ones we were able to achieve – to erase all of that. To return the crystal to the state it was in when it was first formed. A reset button on the life it has lived.”

"Why go through all that effort? It would have been easier to just destroy it," John said, eyes still locked on the crystal.

"If this was just over a year ago, before I met you, I would have already implanted this crystal and began training it. I'd be turning it into a mindless, unfeeling warrior for the Order, just like it was for the Albidians. And... I'd have been wrong. You showed me that, John. From the first day you obtained your powers, you were never more sure than when you refused to create mindless soldiers to fuel the Order’s armies. I was angry at the time… now, I couldn’t be more proud of you for standing up for them. You knew what was right even when I was blinded to it.”

"I think this is a little different from my creations," John said with a laugh he didn't really feel.

"Not as much as you'd think," Moira said, smiling in a soft, almost sad way. "It's a new life created from what was our enemy. A second chance – an innocent newborn, pure and seeking guidance."

John stayed silent, but didn't resist as Moira pulled his hands together and gently placed them around the crystal.

“Moira, I just don’t think-”

"After seeing what a wonderful home and family you've made for yourself, there was no doubt to me, John. I thought for months about what to do with this crystal, but on this, I am now absolutely certain. You are the best person to have it. Do as you will with it… I know that you’ll make it into something wonderful.”

Moira’s smile was bright and as honest of one as he had ever seen on the Warden’s face, and as strong of an endorsement of character as John had ever heard someone say of himself. Despite his misgivings, and though the action felt almost painful in how hard he had to **** it, John slowly wrapped his fingers around the crystal and then sent it into his inventory.

“Thank you, Moira. I’m… not so sure about this crystal,” John admitted. “But I’ll do my best to make you proud.”

“You always have,” Moira said, eyes glistening. “There was one other thing that I wanted to say to you before you left, too.”

“What was-”

This time there was no hesitation, though John saw an instant of a deep blush spreading across Moira’s face as she leaned forward, planting her lips firmly on John’s. This kiss was lighter, less needy, but no less meaningful or intense as Moira’s soft lips did their best to convey her feelings to John. By the time she parted, the message had been well received.

“Don’t… don’t take a year to come back this time, alright?” Moira said, her voice a half-whisper. There was a vulnerability in the way she looked at him then, an uncertainty as if John might disappear then and there, vanish in a puff of smoke to never be seen again.

For all the feelings he had been discussing with her, for all the feelings he’d had about all those he cared about since returning, John felt something stirring within him. Something happened that hadn’t in over a year, at least not at that intensity. A warmth flowed through John’s body, emanating from his core and warming long chilled limbs… and a long frozen heart. A heart that now fluttered with the simple joys of sharing a new, true affection with another.

“I… I won’t. I promise,” John said, a deep smile coming unbidden to his face.

“You’d better not. Now get going, you Lady-blinded fool. We’ve got a month… make every second count.”

John nodded and stepped backwards until he could reach Sophia, locking his hand with the amazonian Harpy’s a moment before they faded away. He wasn’t sure what the next month would hold for them – or what awaited them at the end of it.