Skulduggery Pleasant series just a Mevolent/Serafina fan And a fan of Mevolent's side and The War times in general (literally reading for these reasons)
Some of the names in the series - especially early villain names, like Vengeous and Serpine and Mevolent - aren't really words, but sound like existing words, and evoke the same meaning.
This works fine, in canon - Vengeous is obviously supposed to be vengeance, etc. - but it gets a little more difficult, when you're creating backstory.
The worldbuilding has characters choose their own names, as children, often inspired by something they heard or read - but it's less simple to explain why someone would choose a name that isn't like… a real word, or where they'd even first hear it.
For Mevolent, I invented a backward etymology from an alternate spelling of mauvoillant - variants include mauvoilant, mauvuilant, and mauvuillant - all of which are roughly pronounced as ‘mevolent' - from Middle French, dating back as early as the 12th century.
(I think that tracks with canon heavily ~implying Mevolent himself isn't Irish - he invades Ireland from abroad, China flees his castle and "returns to Ireland," Valkyrie notices that he speaks with a strange, flat accent, and he uses a translator, when speaking to the Irish Sanctuary in the 1700s.)
Mauvoillant has the same root and definition as the English malevolent - wicked, evil, accursed.
It has a second meaning, though - it's used in Christian texts as a cipher for the name of the devil, literally "the evil one."
Which is really fun, as characterisation for a religious fanatic, and creates a nice parallel with Serpine - whose name also plays on the allegory of a biblical serpent.
i've been thinking about an AU centered in the unveiled. I just wish to put on some dark backstory for that family.
I was thinking, maybe another brother that we haven't heard of because he's already dead and, as Creed, was dishonored from the family.
A brother even older than Creed and even more fanatical tham him, that believed in the neccesity to procreate exclusively between faceless one's descendants... Naturally, The Unveiled must think that they're the purest breed so... What if this older brother wanted to produce a child of the faceless, same as Creed, and after many failed attemps (that he probably tried in his own offspring) he concluded that the mistake was in the impurity of his partners.
So... As the purest bloodline, the only right candidate could be one of his sisters. So he tried to take Serafina for himself (i like to think that every sibling has had a role since they were born, and Serafina's was being the breeding dog. As the oldest and prettiest sister, that had to be her mission, like basically all the daughters and sisters in the Middle ages). But the rest of the siblings weren't THAT insane, so they expelled him out the family.
That didn't change Serafina's role thou. She was the marriage exchange coin and she had many many suitors before Mevolent. And the only reason why they all got rejected was because the family didn't find them sufficiently valid. The marriage with Mevolent wasn't really an option. The Unveiled believed in him and saw his huge power and influence. So they decided to stop trying marrying Sef to other faceless descendants (which was an impossible task because they all hated each other) and compromise her to the strongest dude they knew.
However, when the expelled brother found out, he got furious. His sister, a carrier of the holy blood, allowing her blood to be contaminated by that heretic who intended to call himself a prophet. This thinking was shared with Creed, that couldn't conceive how a commoner with luck in magic, could be the chosen to bring the gods back.
Serafina at this point didn't care too much. She was a righteous devotee, and aware of her blood's importance. She never had the chance to consider her faceless child incubator role because it had been assigned to her since her childhood, so it was just like any other thing to do for her. But after all that suitors, who just wanted her body, her status, being the father to the creature that she was supposed to give birth to... And especially after her own brother tried to reproduce with her forcibly, she was kind of traumatized so she didn't care anymore.
That's why when her hand was offered to Mevolent, she did not put up any objections despite the fact that she was being married off to a person with unholy blood. To be fair, it was also kind of a escape from the rest of the faceless descendants families.
Strosivadian was just a disgrace, he was born deformed and their parents took it as a punishment from the gods. So he was the middle forgotten child.
Rune wasn't as beautiful and elegant as Serafina, since she was a child she showed the same brutality and strenght as her brothers, so they thought it may be a good idea to use her as a bodyguard for Serafina. That's what she's been since then. Deeply, she feels lucky cause she wouldn't like to be in Serafina's shoes. Yes, Serafina was the spoiled favourite but at least her destiny wasn't being a walking uterus and having to make childs and childs with a preselected man, hopping to be able to make that faceless child before growing too old and being scrapped for failing the only purpose in her life.
And Rune was an unwanted child. She was an accident. So their parents didn't really know what to do with her, and they were getting kinda old, so they just went much less disciplined on her. That allowed her to have the freedom of not having a role. That's why she's much less fanatic than her siblings.
This caussed problems between Serafina and her, even if not loudly, Serafina envied and resented her for not having any suffering as the rest did.
Creed and the other brother were the golden childs. Almost as important as Serafina, for they were also able to contribute to the creation of the faceless child, in their own way, you know what i mean.
But they had a lot more of freedom, because misogynistic society and all that. They also tried to match with other faceless descendants ladies, but in a lot more unhurried way.
Their insane brother died soon. Probably because Mevolent killed him when he found out what he tried to do with Sef.
But his thoughts deeply resonated with Creed, who set out to find the son of the faceless in a more effective and quicker way.
He's never mentioned, not even by Creed, because that was a really shameful, disturbing episode for everyone. And they all act as if it had never happened. That's why they were so quickly distancing themselves from Creed as soon as they noted their brother's twisted mind on Creed.
Kierre didn't get to know her older brother, she just met Creed. And she didn't live the fatal episode, that's why she doesn't really empathizes with Sef and doesn't get all that Creed hate.
That's why when she said in SoW that Creed wouldn't hurt her, Rune says that indeed he would.
Serafina also gets quite susceptible with that theme. So they never talk about it. They didn't even ask Mevolent if he killed him, they all just assumed that he did
i dont know maybe i'm just allucinating but i really want all that faceless descendants shit to be a chaos and a very disturbing world. With the dsughters being used as incubators and the families hating each other and competing for who is the purest holiest... An all kinds of evil shit like the race to find that faceless child or the constant attempts of inc*st or eliminating the other bloodlines...
actually is this a safe space to say that the dead men should have had women in them from the get-go rather than landy grafting on 2/3 of the female protagonists later in the series when the group is on its last legs
This has been rotating in my mind for a long time. It's one of those things I'm pretty sure aren't canon, BUT they 100% should be.
Hear me out, it would lead to some interesting dynamics and narratives that just make so much sense.
Why It Makes Sense
His Size
For one, it would explain why he is so tall. It appears the Ancients were taller than normal humans judging by the size of the Grotesquery's torso which originated from the remains of a Faceless One that had possessed an Ancient [source].
[Landy says it was either an Ancient or a mortal, but according to the Grimoire mortals only showed up after the FO had been banished, so it must have been and Ancient, and not only bc of the unusual size.]
His Power
It would also explain why he's powerful beyond what an average mage should be able to achieve without knowing his True Name. The rule that 'if you get good at one element it will make you weaker at the opposing element' doesn't apply to him. Not sure if it applies to SP in general, but I feel like it should. Just one of those things that make sense, ya know?
Honestly, this is the weaker argument since I much prefer the explanation that Mevolent is that powerful because the Unnamed's training motto was succeed-or-die so those that survived his training were the best of the best that were pushed to new heights of power by his cruel but effective methods.
This point would work better if he was magically ambidextrous, since that seems to be a canon trait of god descendant mages. While Mevolent showed some sensitive abilities during SoW, it wasn't confirmed if those are actually his powers or if his sensitive wife was aiding him, which is a popular headcanon. He also is shown to be equally adept with sigils as an expert Signum Linguist such as China Sorrows, but again that seems to be more the result of rigorous study (under the Unnamed and after) than a sign of him being magically ambidextrous.
Narrative/Character Dynamics
His Master
The Unnamed, a powerful and relatively pure-blooded descendant of the Faceless Ones, took great joy in finding and turning an Ancient descendant into a loyal servant. Mevolent's betrayal of his master with a weapon he had forged himself for the exact purpose of disposing of his master mirrors the betrayal of their ancestors.
Mevolent created the Obsidian Blade to kill the Unnamed.
The Ancients created the Godkiller weapons to kill/banish the Faceless Ones.
His Gods
Yet, unlike his Ancestors, he still worships the Faceless Ones. The pure-blooded ones and not their traitorous offspring that sought to be worshipped in place of the true Gods. This is heavy headcanon territory but while serving the Unnamed, a young Mevolent was clinging to the belief that the FO were better, kinder masters, and his faith is what gave him the strength to survive his youth.
His servitude to his Gods is repentance for the sins of his forefather.
And he does view them as evil. After all, what kind of people would fight their own kin into extinction? It's why Mevolent doesn't want to fight this war, at least not for as long as it had been going on. That's why he was willing to listen to Vanguard and form a Truce with the Sanctuaries. He is terrified this war will drive mages into extinction, repeating the mistakes of his forefathers.
His Wife
Mevolent's and Serafina's marriage was more than just political. They were trying to mix Serafina's Faceless One Blood with Mevolent's Ancient Blood to produce a Child of the Faceless Ones. The Of The Unveiled blood wasn't pure enough on its own, and Strosivadian's deformities are the result of a failed activation. (x)
The Descendant Of The Faceless Ones
It would give a nice twist to his dynamic with the heroine, Valkyrie. She, a descendant of the bad guys, does the right thing for all the wrong reasons, while he, a descendant of the good guys, does all the wrong things for the right reasons. They're on opposites sides where they should be. It's always interesting to have the villain be the mirror image of the hero tbh.
I admit this point would work better if Valkyrie was more heroic and less villainous herself. I would have preferred this over Val and Skul turning evil over and over again bc of their heritage. It kinda sends the message of 'you can't change who you are born as'. While Mevolent is forging his own path, defying destiny and heritage for better or worse by being a descendant of the Ancients and yet deciding to worship their foes.
(also apparently the Ancients are evil now too in phase 3, but I'm going to ignore that bc I didn't read phase 3, and I'm kinda tired of everybody being an asshole and there being no good guys so I'm just gonna ignore that)
Repeating Histories
Over the course of the history, the two enemies keep clashing. First the Ancients and Faceless Ones, then Mevolent and the Unnamed and finally the Child Of The Ancients Ones and The Child Of The Ancients. Each Sorcerer Era has their big clash between the two.
It has something poetic in its inevitability to it.
In this version of canon, Charivari would also be a descendant of the Ancients which is why Mevolent reached out to him during the war to become allies, but was rejected by the warlock, since, unlike Mevolent, he holds no loyalty to the Faceless Ones and doesn't want them to return.
Gotta admit this ship is really nice to draw spicy shit for, so here's another one, much more explicit this time lol
I definitely bit off WAY more than I could chew with this perspective, and I'm far away from being entirely happy with it, but I did the best I could and I think I did well enough
I want your quiet, your screaming and thrashing
The salt on your lips and the hands that God gave you
And I want your violence, your silent sedation
Your moon eyes, your telescope, morbid fixation
Spiracle - Flower Face
I am. giving the canon "fair haired" version of Mevolent a chance. And I think I managed to find a combination of skin/hairtone that I'm happy enough with.
Also look at me finally doing something for this ship again haha
Esryn Vanguard has to die. Thurid Guild takes care of it.
This is here for anyone who doesn’t have an AO3 account! This hasn’t really been beta read and yknow, english isn’t my first language but hopefully this is nice and coherent! Big thank you to everyone who expressed interest in the drabble <3
Esryn Vanguard had to die.
Those words were not uttered in Mevolent's fortress, but rather, within the confines of Eachan Meritorious' office. A shameful order, whispered to Guild in the dead of night.
Esryn Vanguard had to die. It didn't matter how or where, but he had to be dead before the peace talks were finalized. His words carried too much weight. His gentle, loving nature had charmed one too many people, blinding them with hope for peace.
Peace that very well could be; not even Guild and his gaggle of spies and murderers could prove there was anything beneath Mevolent's detached agreement to the peace talks. No nefarious plans, no malicious intent to strike once weapons were laid down. But it couldn't be disproven, either. Conflict wasn't guaranteed, if they let peace talks go ahead. But could they truly risk it? Could they give Mevolent the room he needed to machinate in the shadows? They could be handing him the perfect opportunity, for all they knew. In the face of uncertainty, Meritorious had made a decision.
Thurid Guild already had blood on his hands. The blood of both foe and friend, of his own troops. His orders had been the death knell of many a soul already, what would be one more? One more to fan the flames of war towards the right path. One more so that one day, sorcerers will be able to lay down their weapons. Hopefully for good, this time.
Meritorious wasn't picky. As long as the job was done, as long as it had the intended effect. But Guild knew better, had known better since he'd first proposed the Exigency Programme to the grand mage. A lesser target would have been disposed off in some dark corner, struck through the heart. Simple, quick and with effective results. But someone like Esryn Vanguard, who had stepped onto a stage and bared his heart to so many? It wouldn't be enough. No, Vanguard had to be a martyr. The face of what happens when you trust the word of a man like Mevolent. Guild would turn him into the poster boy of tragedy, of a life taken too soon by a group so cruel they couldn't let them roam free. Esryn Vanguard's death would be on stage, as most of his life had been.
Peace talks progressed with Meritorious breathing down Guild's neck. But a death like Vanguard's couldn't be rushed. It had to happen by the right means, at the right time and place.
The means weren't too hard to obtain. Though incomplete, Guild had a list of killers who obeyed Mevolent's orders. Any one of them could be easily accused, but the right one had to be picked for it to stick. The Diablerie were a no go; they were far too infamous. There were others, of course, but all of them were accounted for by both Mevolent and the Sancturies. It had to be someone who couldn't prove they hadn't been there to do it. Someone like Dreylan Scarab, whose whereabouts had been unknown for well over a year now. His involvement wouldn't be hard to fake either. It was a simple matter of infiltrating his old quarters, and obtaining the right items from the arsenal left behind.
It was decided then. A poisoned arrow would be Vanguard's end.
What Guild needed now were the hands that would carry the execution through. He had many assassins of his own, many of them capable archers. Choosing one wasn't as simple as drawing straws, however. No one but himself, the grand mage and the perpetrator could know of this. He needed someone loyal to a fault. Someone who wouldn't be affected by potential precautions taken to ensure the event remained peaceful. Teleporters were out of the question, on account of those precautions. The Programme's last tunneler wasn't a better option, on account that they would leave evidence behind and had little skill in archery. No, what Guild needed was a ghost. A mage who would never be seen, one that didn't exist beyond the confines of the Exigency Programme's safe houses and camps. Guild made his decision.
"Esryn Vanguard has to die." Guild said. "We cannot trust Mevolent's word."
There was no need for justification. Not with Magpie Murray. Born and bred to kill, with no family and no home to go back to. Most importantly, with no one to tell the truth to. Guild's secret weapon, the ghost who would carry out this heinous task.
"When the final date and location is set, you're to arrive two days prior and prepare. I trust you'll know when to strike. If anything goes awry, you know what to do."
Find somewhere quiet and die, he meant. Murray's very existence was unknown to the world. As long as he made good use of the invisible sigil etched onto his neck, there would be no assassin to find.
"Yes, sir. It will be done."
"And Murray..? Speak of this to no one. This dies with us."
There was no answer, but Guild knew. No one would ever know. Loyalty and duty had been bred into the man, just like killing had been.
Esryn Vanguard would be dead in two weeks. The date had been set, the location chosen. An old church, sitting in a no man's land between the opposing sides' territories. Though abandoned, it was a grand venue. Big enough to welcome the swathes of war-worn sorcerers longing for a better, tranquil world. But there would be no peace after that day, not until Mevolent and his forces were squashed.
Magpie arrived to the church two days prior, an unassuming murder of crows slipping through the steeple's narrow window. He made his home in the rafters, all the way across the altar that would serve as Vanguard's stage. Curtain's had been put up in various places to hide the religious iconography of mortals. Magpie watched as signum linguists belonging to both armies carved sigils into the walls. Wards to prevent teleporters from slipping in, to prevent magic from being used to enact violence. Useless wards that did nothing to someone like him. Like tunnelers, swarm shapeshifters were immune to magic-binding sigils. They were too few and far between to warrant any real concern.
Magpie spent those forty eight hours inhuman and keenly aware of the fact that he would be changed further when he turned back. It didn't matter, it had to be done. Esryn Vanguard had to die.
In the late afternoon, two days after his arrival, sorcerers began to fill into the church. Some sat on the old pews, but many stood, not trusting the half rotten wood to hold their weight. As the sun crawled down the horizon, the crowd grew in its size. The hushed conversation rippling through the crowd finally quieted, when Mevolent made his appearance. Tall and imposing, his helmet had been replaced by a veil— he was here to listen, not to fight. Whether or not the intent was genuine, no one would ever know. Not after tonight. Various grand mages followed. Meritorious was among them, shadowed by Guild. And finally, once everyone had gathered, Esryn Vanguard made his entrance. He was flanked by four guards, two from Mevolent's forces, two from the Sanctuaries.
Vanguard looked almost holy, in the evening light. Dying rays of sunlight turned his blond hair to a mop of woven gold, and his expression was serene and warm. If only he knew he was heading straight to the altar of martyrdom.
Magpie's bow weighed heavy on his back. He became keenly aware of the quiver at his hip, of the singular arrow resting within it. The mental image came to him, then. The mass of bodies turning into a sea of flailing, kicking and clawing limbs. Esryn Vanguard, a dying heap on the altar, the gentle life bleeding out of him. Magpie felt a twinge of something within, something he'd never felt before. He'd killed more people than he could count, in the one and half century he'd been alive. Killing came as easy as breathing to him, and yet… And yet he'd never killed someone who wouldn't fight back, given the chance. He'd spent his life targeting soldiers, lieutenants and various miscreants. Never someone so gentle and full of love for every living being he encountered. But the order had been given. Esryn Vanguard had to die, Magpie reminded himself.
The crowd below fell into silence as Vanguard ascended the few steps to the altar. He turned to face them, and smiled. "Thank you for joining me today, it is an honour to have reached the hearts of so many."
Magpie held his breath as the speech continued.
"Today, we gather as one people with one dream; peace. As we have learned over the years, peace is not easy to achieve. Peace takes effort and time, the willingness to change. And I see that willingness in each and every one of you today. We are all here with the hope for a better world, for ourselves and for the people who will come after us. I know that many of you still feel that dream to be nothing but wishful thinking. But I know, and of this I am certain, that we can make that dream become reality. Just as we've gathered here today, wary and fatigued, I believe we can one day come together as neighbours, as friends even. It will not be an easy road, I'm aware of this as well. It will be a difficult process, it will be tense. There may be times where you question why we put our weapons down. But through this process, you will find joy. Knowledge and experiences you may have never come across, had we never assembled here today. We will all find what we seek at the end of this road; a better world."
Magpie took his bow in hand, notched the arrow. Breathe in, breathe out. One arrow. One chance. Magpie drew the string of his bow. Breathe in.
"But I haven't asked you to come together today merely to serenade you with sweet words." Esryn Vanguard looked up then. Whether or not he saw him, Magpie would never know. Did he know? Did he know that this would be the end? Vanguard kept talking. "We have gathered here today so that we may put forward a peace treaty, which will—"
Breathe out.
Magpie didn't know if his earlier vision came true. As soon as the arrow was let loose, he leaped from his perch. Forcing his body, along with the bow into a singular, small feathered one, he zipped through the shadows. As he ascended through the steeple and out the narrow window, he heard the unmistakable sound of hell breaking loose within the church. His aim had stayed true. Some sick part of him wanted to slip back inside. To see if he'd been right, if the gathering had turned into a stormy ocean of violent limbs. Did Vanguard look holy, still? Crumpled on the altar, haloed by a growing pool of his own blood? Magpie's stomach turned. He shook his head clear, and took off as soon as the stragglers outside rushed in to see what the chaos was about.
Esryn Vanguard was dead.
A bitter taste filled Guild's mouth. He watched as Vanguard reached for the arrow lodged in his throat, then collapsed. If Guild had to guess, the man had died before he even hit the ground. Pandemonium burst all around him. First came shouts, then came the violent clashing of hands and feet against bodies. Plain clothed Exigency mages were already rushing for him and Meritorious, ready to pull them out of the church. Before they could, Guild whispered beneath the cacophony.
"I hope it was worth it, grand mage."
There was hardly any room to navigate towards the exit, though cleavers had come to make an attempt at controlling the crowd. It was too late; sorcerers lay dead or dying, either crushed or beaten to death. The damage had been done. Esryn Vanguard was dead. Any tangible end to the war had died with him, pooling in the blood leeching out of him.
Above the crowd, Mevolent roared as he swept away a handful of sorcerers with nothing more than a swipe of his arm. "Enough!"
Somehow, it was all it took. The room stilled, and the crowd grew quiet. The stench of sweat and blood would be enough to make anyone nauseated, but that wasn't why Guild's stomach was doing somersaults in his abdomen.
"You!" Came Bisahalani's voice, high and reedy with anger. "You did this! We should have known that this was nothing more than a charade!"
Mevolent's tone came out eerily even. "I gave no order for Vanguard's death, grand mage. Why would I deny my people what they so desperately want?"
Meritorious began to step forward. Guild wanted to strangle the man. Speaking now wouldn't absolve them of scrutiny, it would only serve to draw attention to them. After everything he'd done, after he'd further bloodied his own hands and the hands of his mages, this is the thanks he was going to get? A foolish misstep that could prove disastrous? There was nothing he could do, and so Guild swallowed down the venom he so desperately wanted to spit out.
"Perhaps it would be best to call an investigation, then. Overseen by an impartial party, of course." Meritorious called out. It didn't ease the boiling pot of emotions raging in Guild's mind.
An oppressive silence fell over the room. Sorcerers from both sides waited with bated breath. No one could tell whether Mevolent would acquiesce, or if he would simply redeclare war right then and there. Guild hoped for the latter. Careful precautions had been taken, but there was always a chance that they would fail if an investigation was conducted. War would mean more casualities within this room, possibly including himself and the grand mages. But it would be for the best. If this were to come to light, Ireland would never recover. The Irish Sanctuary would be abolished, and the others would undoubtedly squabble over who had claim to a cradle of magic. Yes, war would be for the best.
"Very well. But know this; if none of my men lay claim to the killing blow and you dare accuse one of them, I will plunge us all in a war from which you will never recover."
Mevolent left. A trail of bloodied and bruised sorcerers followed suit after him, thankfully thinning out the crowd. Guild could breathe again, but he didn't stay for the ensuing argument. He wasn't a grand mage, after all, not even an elder. Just a very hated man with too much blood on his hands. On his way out, he found the nearest elemental to light his pipe. Being outside didn't shield him from the shouting within the church, though. He listened while he smoked. Accusations were thrown around— first at him specifically, of course, then the Americans, who then accused the British Sanctuary. He listened to Meritorious carefully trying to call for peace. Ironic, really. It was enough to make Guild want to scream. But Meritorious was right; arguing amongst themselves would achieve nothing.
An hour later and still fuming, he climbed into a carriage with Meritorious. Guild's personal one, of course. With hidden sigils wall to ceiling to ensure no one could listen in. A necessity right now, because Guild had a lot to say.
"With all due respect," he started through gritted teeth, "that was foolish. I understand that silence would not have absolved us either, but drawing unnecessary attention? They will not think us less guilty."
Meritorious must have lost his patience during the earlier argument, because an especially bitter look came over his face.
"What would you have had me do, Guild? Stand still and wait for Mevolent to cut us all down? Are you so eager to martyr yourself?"
"I know there were no good answers to this problem. I know. But an investigation—"
"We have known each other for centuries. You are not an unintelligent man, I know that you have taken great precaution to ensure this investigation will not lead to our doom."
Guild had. But keeping the Exigency Programme's operations in the shadows took a certain kind of paranoia, one that couldn't be easily tamed. Yes, he'd taken great care to frame Scarab. The arrow, the poison had been from his abandoned arsenal. Murray had remained invisible the whole time, and disappeared without a trace once the deed was done. But what if that wasn't enough? What if there was something he hadn't thought of? Or Murray wasn't the ghost he'd hoped for? No. No, if someone had seen him, he would have known by now— there would be dead crows littering the ground around the church. There was another problem, of course. Dreylan Scarab. Guild allowed himself to quiet his concerns on that front. If Scarab was with someone reputable enough to vouch for his innocence, they would know where he was. And seeing as he was still missing, well…
The remainder of the carriage ride was silent. Guild stewed in his feelings and doubts.
Had he done the right thing?
The thoughts chased after him as he returned to camp. Exigency mages clad in black uniforms greeted him with nods as he walked. He didn't respond, trapped in his own head. Guild knew the grim truth; there were no good solutions. Every path forward had been filled with too many variables to account for, too much of it relying on incredibly unstable alliances and people they couldn't fully trust. At least now, they had a clear path forward. Either framing Scarab would work, and they'd be plunged into further conflict… Or Guild would be presented as the culprit, as though he'd acted against orders he'd never been given. At least then, whatever happened next would no longer concern him. Some part of him selfishly longed for it, for relief from his atrocious duties. But knowing his luck, there would be no relief.
Regardless of what came out of it, the future ahead was grim.
For the second time that night, Guild allowed himself to smoke. By the time he was entering his tent and slipping off his coat, he could almost pretend it helped soothe his frayed nerves.
"Sir—"
"Good lord!" Guild nearly chucked his coat straight at the figure perched on a nearby crate. "Murray, you cannot keep doing this."
"Sorry, sir."
Guild sighed and set his coat aside. This was nothing new to him. It wasn't unique to Murray, either— both Click and Selwyn also had the nasty habit of startling him. Somehow, he never got used to it, even after years of being surrounded by people who moved like shadows. At least this time, it knocked him right out of his own head.
A conversation was necessary, at this point. But Guild allowed himself to retrieve the wine he kept for headache-inducing days. It wouldn't be enough, but it would have to do. As he poured himself a glass, he listened to the sound of talons clicking against wood. Murray was staring at him. Not necessarily odd behaviour on its own, but for Murray? Something was bothering him. Guild briefly thought of offering him some wine before deciding against it. It would be far too personal. To offer Murray a connection now would be cruel. After all, he'd have to be disposed of eventually to ensure the truth of today's events never came out. Guild couldn't help but wonder if he knew that. If he did, the assassin seemed to have come to terms with the idea.
After downing half the glass, Guild finally spoke. "Vanguard is dead."
"I thought that might be the case."
"No one saw you?"
"No. I waited on the steeple until there was no one outside to see me leave." There was a pause. "He may have seen me."
"Vanguard?"
"Yes."
It didn't matter, not really. Vanguard was dead, and the odds of him truly having seen Murray through the darkness were close to zero. But Guild wasn't blind to the waver in that usually flat tone. He waited for whatever it was Murray really wanted to say. It came quickly enough.
"May I… May I make a request, sir?"
"I cannot promise I'll grant it, but go ahead."
"I'd like to ask that my memories not be removed." Murray's voice cracked for a moment, before he collected himself. "If that's at all possible."
Guild had no intention to do so. While the Exigency Programme had several sensitives at its disposal, they weren't exactly a dime a dozen. To have a sensitive root through the assassin's mind would mean implicating someone else. And to ensure the investigation uncovered nothing at all, that sensitive would have to be killed— another headache-inducing complication Guild had no desire to deal with. Besides, Dreylan Scarab would have to be dealt with eventually. It would be far simpler to have Murray take care of that as well, then dispose of him too.
The request didn't come from a place of practicality, however. It was a barely concealed statement; I don't deserve to forget what I did. Though he often behaved as though he was above it, Guild was no stranger to the sort of mental self-flagellation Murray wished to inflict upon himself. But that alone was concerning— it was new behaviour Guild had never seen from him. Murray had always been cold, efficient and his behaviour had never once indicated the presence of any guilt. There was never any of this shuffling, no eyes darting around to avoid eye contact before tonight. Then again, Vanguard had been a unique target. Unusually gentle and convincing. Regardless of the reason, this was something else to keep track of. Guild could feel his headache coming back on.
"That, I can allow. I had no intentions to— it's best if this is kept only between us and the grand mage." Guild waved a hand dismissively. "Secrecy aside, we'll have to deal with Scarab at a later time. I'll need you for that as well."
"Thank you, sir."
"Of course. You're dismissed." Guild was finally alone, with only his thoughts for company.
Guild was a bad man. He was aware many thought him oblivious to it, on account of him being selfish enough to enjoy the luxuries his position brought him. They thought he must think the ends justify the means, because he refused to be meek and repetant in the face of his actions. But he knew. Oh, he knew— he'd come to terms with the sort of man he was a long time ago. No matter how bitter he felt about it. Or how bad the taste left in his mouth was. Because people like him would always be needed. Because wars weren't won by good people.
He downed his half empty wine glass. There was no time to wallow.
Esryn Vanguard was dead. A single death, a small drop in an ocean of thousands. But that small drop was enough to cause catastrophic ripples. Many of which would be Guild's responsibility to fix. He had to prepare, both himself and his mages. There were operations to be set into motion, plans to be made and complications to deal with. All of them equally migraine inducing.
For the Character Bingo: The Of The Unveiled Siblings
So. Their aesthetic is just too much??? Like I love it??? They're the powerful old nobility rich gothic religious family. That's the most wild aesthetic I can think of.
They give some kind of celebrity effect. Like, you want to know about them. You want to know how they eat. How they think. How they pass their time. How they think of eachother....
There literally could be a spinoff just about them. If Derek has the capacity of writing good things. He could make the greatest gothic-dark coded book. But nooooo. He prefers Valkyrie.
I hate how they have 0 complexity in the books. I wish we had seen at least ONE scene of them interacting with Mevolent. I mean, he is their leader-messiah but also their brother in law.
How do they treat him? Like their sister's hubby or like their boss-leader-king... What does Mevolent think about them? Does he like them? Only appreciate them because of his wife? Loathes them silently? Is he besties with Strosivadian? (I kinda headcanon that)
i have to make a post about my headcanons about them all and their dynamics.
Also, I don't get why some part of the fandom doesn't like them. I get that their appearance was ... Little
But bruh. They had so much aura. Much more than the dead men. Kill me on this one, I don't fucking care.
I hated too how Kierre just ran away with the police sanctuary officer like.... bruh? Were you even religious? And theirs siblings (the religious extremists) were just fine.
And how they didn't even tried to get Mevolent and THEIR SISTER out of that Eternity Cage.
They didn't even tried. That's too out of character. Derek didn't want to keep writing about them and that's it but literally no sense.
Sorry for the delay. I didn't notice I had questions. Thanks for the question!!!!:
I FOUND SOME SHITTY AI IMAGES ON PINTEREST, AND THAT'S MORE OR LESS HOW I SEE SERAFINA DEY
In my mind, Serafina is Mediterranean. Either from Spain or Italy or France or any other country from that zone.
And I've always pictured her as very very bronze - skinned, even for a mediterranean. But yes, I think it's aesthetically pleasant in contrast to Mevolent's yellow tone (olive skin maybe?) and pale blonde hair. I've always pictured her as the most tanned of her siblings too.
I also think this may help to distingue her from other characters (as the majority are Irish, I would like for her to have notorious and different factions) Also, for me she has thick long chestnut curly hair. With those typical Italian - Spanish curls. Now add a red dress with bones and noooooow you get it!
Derek give us our Mediterranean bronze queen!!
I also tried to find something close to Mevolent but bruh that's not possible. He's just too weird described. How I wish I could draw to try. But even with that, he's weirdly described: yellow nicotine skin?? What??? With pale blond hair?? Like a Simpson???
I couldn't find anything. Ai is not on Mevolent's level , bitch.
Something I’ve come to realize is that a HUGE part of SP is that Valkyrie keeps getting her autonomy (especially bodily autonomy) violated by…everyone.
She’s been medically operated on by a war criminal. She’s had her soul torn in half. She’s been shot by her friend. She had another aspect of herself developing inside her for YEARS and Skulduggery did fuck all to fix it. She’s been possessed by gods AND by the weird psycho version of her partner. She’s been kidnapped. She’s been drugged and tested on her reaction. There’s more too, the list literally goes on and on. Friends, enemies, everyone.
And Skulduggery, of course, is a massive fucking part of this. Boundaries, what are those? Solomon literally has to call him out on how creepy it is that he sometimes just shows up at Valkyrie’s house. He claims he gives Valkyrie the freedom to do whatever she wants, which mostly manifests as him allowing her to make choices he knows are bad for her. And while this utter lack of safety does teach Valkyrie how to survive very quickly, it’s not him being fully honest with himself about how much freedom he’s willing to give her.
You see, he’s willing to give her all this freedom because he knows that no matter what, she’ll choose to stay with him. She can do whatever she wants so long as she chooses to stay with him. But the moment she’s talking about the possibility of her leaving him? And not coming back? Boy oh boy is he willing to resort to coercion to get her to stay. It’s an illusion of freedom and it’s made Valkyrie so, SO much more vulnerable to being groomed by other people (which is something that we see manifest in-series!).
And you know what’s REALLY stupid? One of the few people who hasn’t tried to violate her consent or autonomy is Mevolent. The genocidal fascist. Of course, it’s not about Valkyrie. He wants to feel powerful and is bored with his life; an extremely powerful wild card is exactly the kind of thing that can keep him entertained. Binding her magic or trying to make her weaker ruins the fun for him. He LIKES her because she provides him with a challenge he hasn’t been able to have in decades. And it is unbelievably fucked up that Skulduggery, the man in charge of raising her and acting as her partner, has done more to violate Valkyrie’s autonomy than Mevolent has even attempted to.
kaledo-art
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