Ophelia is punctual as she arrives at the Spire.  She is also very tired inside.

She does not like Archons.

At least the bloody iron's sorted out.  If she had to resolve that concurrently with this, she might well explode.

She is on the one hand the picture of a mage - but on the other, the picture of a craftswoman.  She carries measuring and drafting tools, spare slates - well, they're not slates, they're these ingenious little wax-etching things - ink and quill and seal of Tunon.  Her robes are flattering, but they do not compromise on function.

And so, because she has a duty as a Fatebinder, no matter how much a pretense that is to powermonger - here she is, about to deal with something that she'd really prefer someone who's actually an Archon to handle.

(The cosmic irony will surely some day make her laugh.)

(That day is not today.)

Sirin is an Archon and this should involve less getting bossed around by petty idiots and more getting to do what she likes. She's barely kept anyone for herself, and still she's done something wrong according to the stupid empty vessel Tunon's stupid Fatebinder.

But she's here. About ten minutes past noon.

(She could have showed up on time. The Spire is a hell of a sundial. She didn't bother.)

"Governor."

"Archon Sirin.  ...My thanks for - being willing to work with me, here.  This is the sort of problem that could end in Edicts, if it's not handled with care and consideration, and you have the right to just completely ignore me.

"I'm given to understand that there's an...issue, where you sang a song to ...recruit for the Chorus, that enthralled a soldier sworn to the Dishonored, and now Graven Ashe and the Voices of Nerat are...having very different opinions, about what should happen with him.  I'd like to hear what happened, in your own words, if you please."

Seriously? She doesn't get to have any fun.

"I was singing for the locals and he wandered by and decided to listen. It's not that complicated," she lies.

"...Ma'am, I am not blind."

"Which is to say, please do do me the courtesy of assuming I am not wilfully oblivious to the tensions between the Dishonored and the Scarlet Chorus that I imagine you've been asked to inflame.  Or, perhaps, simply don't care about.  So.  I'd like to hear what you actually did.  And why you did it."

"I really don't care what the Disfavored think of the Chorus. Or what the Chorus thinks of anyone. You think I like any of them? I'm only here because Kyros decided I was useful and ordered me to work for the insane Voices."

A poorly-hidden tension drains out of her frame.  "Oh, thank goodness.  I thought I was the only person in this steading that was capable of realizing that both of them are fucking awful, just - in different ways.  You know, they both tried to bribe me to favor their requisitions?  Which is very definitely illegal!

"...I assume that you would prefer to not be dancing to the Chorus's tune if I can find a way to make that happen, but - what do you want to - affirmatively do?  I'm - well, it does depend upon the words of Kyros's orders, here - but I much prefer that the people who work under my aegis, and as much as - well, you're an Archon, but I have a protective streak a mile wide and it's adopted you - I prefer people be doing things they like.  Or at least hate less than the other necessary tasks.  Nobody likes digging new latrines, but for Earthshakers it's good magic practice.  So if I can find a way to give you something that would bring you happiness -

"Well.  There's a little tiny part of me that believes in the grand vision Kyros stuffs down our throats.  Where people work together to make something wonderful, instead of kicking eachother in the shins because they don't like eachothers' faces.

"That part of me is stupid because it is not observing the world, but I still try to encourage it, because what else can I do?  Give up?  Bah!"

She scoffs, and her mask falls into place again.

"I'd rather just stay in my little makeshift temple with the followers who like me and not bother interacting with anyone else, but I doubt Kyros or Nerat will let me. I scare them. Same reason they didn't just let me stay a farmer's daughter singing for whichever village paid us a couple iron rings. And locked this fucking crown on my head."

"I could absolutely ban the practice of using you to conscript people, at least for the Chorus - the Dishonored are quite emphatically demanding that, in fact, at least of Kyros' citizens."

She looks at the crown.  She processes the crown.  She whistles.  "That is impressively paranoid of them.  What did you even do, try to kill Kyros herself?  And - I know it doesn't mean shit, but I'm sorry it happened.  There shouldn't be - this constant threat of death; it's counterproductive.  You hold a lot of power, but - you really don't strike me as the sort who will throw it around at random, not unless provoked.  For all that it seems someone rather has been doing that, and their name may be Nerat."  Or possibly Kyros, she doesn't say.

"...Yes. I put - despair - into my song, as Kyros heard it, and she nearly killed herself. They already kept me gagged outside performances. They considered cutting out my voicebox or tongue, but settled on forging the crown."

...she wasn't expecting to be right!

...would Sirin like a hug.

"...I have to admit that when I'm not busy doing my job, I wonder if I could replace her.  And then do - do something, better than this.  The way things are - it isn't sustainable.  I'm sure you can already see how things fracture, and the people suffer for it.

"...I don't like it, when people suffer.  I want to see them thriving.  Not dying.  And not - dying inside, either.  Putting up an act while their heart, the part that cares, that sees the promise of better lives, bleeds out.  And I'm not there yet.  I'm not at the point where an Archon - er, an established Archon, one with their own power base - would be stupid to dismiss my voice, and you need that to have any hope of getting them to be less - wasteful.  To - establish a better way of thinking and being and doing.  Where it's not - self-contradictory laws enforced at judicial discretion, where it's not burning and banning knowledge but safeguarding it - where people know that their duty is to make people's lives better, including their own.  Where magic and iron are things all can aspire to.  I want to leave a mark on the world, and - the mark I want to leave is that things are better than I found them."

She sighs.  "It's pretty tough to actually make that happen.  But I'm trying, because - what else is there to do?

"So.  Let's make this better."

Ophelia's stylus scrapes across her notebook, drafting a judicial decree.  It is not necessarily the final form this will take, but she's confident in it.

BE IT KNOWN:

That before this Court is a matter in which A MEMBER of the Archon GRAVEN ASHE's forces was ENSORCELLED by the Archon SIRIN, under the COMMAND of the Archon known as THE VOICES OF NERAT, and thusly COMPELLED, despite his will, to present himself to the Scarlet Chorus as a CONSCRIPT.

That no party witness to this happening has disagreed with this characterization of events.

BE IT KNOWN:

That those who serve the Overlord already serve the Overlord, and cannot be called to such service twice.

Thusly the member of the Dishonored shall be returned to their service, as will ANY SEEMING CONSCRIPT who IS or WAS in service to an ORGANIZATION invested with recognition of a SPECIFIC PURPOSE by the Overlord, or by any person to whom that power is delegated (such as Archons).

BE IT KNOWN:

That there will nonetheless be situations in which organized forces must resolve disputed priorities from those who have great, yet clashing, claim to Right of Destruction.

That it is this scribe's opinion that this situation is not effectively handled within the existing body of law.

That this scribe proposes the following methods of discernment:

A) POTENCY: An order of the Overlord quite obviously overrules all others.  That is known by all.  Those with lesser commands similarly might overrule still-lesser commanders' orders.

B) PROXIMITY: An order of equal Potency, in conflict with another, might be resolved by determining which order is 'closer', in time or distance, to the forces affected.

C) PERIL: The amount of catastrophe an order will predictably cause if disobeyed - exempli gratia, "this prisoner must have two guards watching him at all times, lest he escape and resume his campaign of assassinations" - may weigh AGAINST the measure of other factors.

That this scribe does not intend this segment of this judgement to bind strictly, but instead serve as prefigurative advice.

 

SO WRITTEN AND SO JUDGED.

Ophelia Vaudelle, Lethian's Crossing, Year 429 TR.

"Well, you'll probably be crushed when that policy makes someone important's life harder. But good luck!"

She's happy to sign to her acknowledgement of the order, if the Fatebinder wants it.

It would be useful, she thinks, to have the imprimatur of an Archon upon this.

"I do expect that I will equally have credit with other organizations for the ability to protect their people.  For instance, I do believe you could hole up in your makeshift temple with the people who actually like you, under this ruling, and no Archon could then gainsay you.  Though the Overlord probably would, I must assume."

"As I understand the Right of Adjudication, it doesn't apply between Nerat and myself, because I have been explicitly placed as its sworn vassal. But I expect I can at least get to come back here whenever I'm not actively recruiting. Thank you."

"It's the least I can do.  ...Good luck."

"Thank you, Governor. Good luck with whatever duty you get next."