(( OOC note: This may seem out of continuity. I promise it will all make sense ))
Justice "Paladinzero" Steele stood before the mirror putting on the ceremonial armor almost automaticly as his mind and emotions raced. Today was the day. Graduation from the academy. Shortly, he would become a Brother in the Order of the Redeeming Blade.
For five long years, the Keeper paid with his blood, sweat and tears to wear the insignia depicting a mighty trio of swords. Justice. Honor. Duty. Two of them crossing each other, covering the third in their center.
But the price of such privilage was actually pretty high, wasn't it? During his "Baptism", he lost every memory he had. Upon awakening in his pod, his life before that point had been taken away. Whoever it was that lie down there may have just as well died. When Justice Steele stood from that chamber, he was a practicly shapless mass for the Brotherhood to mold as they saw fit.
It was necessary, they told him. His old life was irrelevant. Not only that, but such memories might actually be a hinderance in the preformance of his new duties. And Duty was one of the Three Primes. Best the filth be washed away least they taint the soul and make it less resistant to Chosen trickery.
And that seemed like a sound enough theory to him. Surely, the man he was would not have willingly thrown away what he had without good reason. Besides, what choise did he have? The worlds had nothing for him, save what the Brothers gave to him. Not Rubi-Ka, not all the Shadowlands held anyone or anything he could claim stake to.
But there were times....
Times when the fasting ached to much, when the ritualistic meditation lasted too many hours, when the sparring tore his body too much. Times when he wondered why who he was could have done such a thing to who he is. How could he have hated himself so much to put himself under so much torture. But they passed, Just as Father Pious said they would. And when they did, he felt stronger for having endured. Just as Father Pious said he would.
For all that Father Pious and the Brotherhood had given him, they would not grant him that which he sought most. Not the slightest clue as to his identity. It played torturous tricks on the mind, wondering who, what, where in thousands of permutations that always danced about inside his minf. Had he a family? Someone he cared for? Somewhere else he was supposed to be?
There was something however. Maybe something the Baptism missed, though that was unlikely. It came to his first as a whisper in a dream from a shapless face. As the months became years though, the dream became clearer, yet it never quite finished untill just last night. Odd that it should come on his last few hours in the Monistary.
The face of an old woman, a very strange woman.....
His train of thought was immeadiately lost as the door opened.
Justice snapped to "attention" as Father Pious entered his room
The "father" looked more like a warrior than a priest, but such was the way with most of the Brothers. His greying hair betrayed his age, though his jaw still locked forward with resolve as his eyes pierced through you. Quite fit as well, his solid physique looked as though it could still handle a beating by the toughest of Heckler. His demeanor screamed a life of combatant that has seen many wars.
"Stand easy, Squire" the man told him. "The time is now. Follow me"
The Nothingman quickly fastened the last buckle on his shoulderpad before grabbing his sword and following slightly behind and a bit to the left of his elder.
It would be the last time they would march together...
