Chương 88: 6.09 How many Samanthas does it take to change a lightbulb?

2104: 02: 23: 23: 42: 02 It took over an hour before the next guest arrived. In the meantime, we ate cherry pie and other snacks they'd brought with, drank soda – or in Mantellan's case, coffee – and talked. Mantellan told fun stories about the past with Rhennish interjecting on occasion, especially when the older man was overexaggerating.

They told us about the Sentinels' past, about how each of them joined, about previous members, and about more memorable interactions with other heroes, civilians, and past villains.

It would've been a subtle recruitment pitch if it weren't for the fact that every so often – practically every fifth sentence – March would blatantly try to convince us that joining the Sentinels would be a 'really really good idea actually', telling us how 'cool it would be to all work together' and how much she was 'looking forward' to it. Rhennish bore it all with a look of silent, indulgent sufferance. Mantellan just outright laughed at points.

Still, her enthusiasm was infectious, and I found it pretty funny in an endearing kind of way. Especially when I thought of her attitude earlier today – a complete turnaround in attitude without even the slightest hint of a grudge or lingering resentment. I could tell though that Amber wasn't as… charmed as I was. Whether that was because of March's efforts itself or that she wasn't satisfied with the offer the Sentinels had made, I had yet to find out. Something to discuss later, no doubt.

Either way, at 23: 42 the third guest to the Sentinels' picnic party arrived. Despite their near-opposite appearance in aesthetics, Aetherna's costume seemed all but made to be the dynamic equivalent of Mantellan's. Both their costumes conveyed the idea of the magical masked, but in wildly different ways. Mantellan's did so by cloaking himself in shadow, his deep blue layered robes with a lighter sapphire blue trim and azure cloak and cowl affecting a calm yet deep sense of mystery.

Aetherna's costume meanwhile made her look like the quintessential white wizard, her wizard robes an eggshell white with pure white trim. She had neither cape nor cloak and her face was only partially obscured by a detailed wing-and-feather mask painted a shimmering pastel rainbow of slowly changing colors, leaving her mouth, jaw and hair visible. Another thing both similar and dissimilar, at least superficially, were their armaments.

Mantellan carried – in pouches, in unseen pockets and on his belt – a variety of strange objects like feathers, a glass eye, (fake) metal coins and a genuine lizard's tail; all for use as sacrifices in order to work his powers. He even showed us how he could use crumbs from our sandwich to heat his mug, or how a napkin could be used to get the weeds out from a nearby flowerbed. Aetherna lacked both the items and the compartments to store them. Instead, she wore jewelry everywhere.

Glittering rings on all fingers, a many-beaded-and-gemmed necklace, a variety of bangles and bracelets with illuminated script that reflected a pale light from a moon that wasn't in the sky. So complementarily opposed did she and Mantellan look that even the most inattentive could figure there was some kind of story there. Whether it was a good or bad one remained to be seen.

"Aetherna, welcome." Unlike with us, it was Mantellan that greeted her, his tone soft with familiarity. Not a wholly bad story then.

"Come and have a seat; we've left one open for you." The familiarity was reciprocated, "This wasn't what I had in mind when you asked me to talk," but the softness wasn't. She remained standing.

"I feared you wouldn't have come if I told you what this was about."

"An ill omen, that." Mantellan sighed forlornly.

"Then I'll cut to the chase. We hoped," he gestured towards Rhennish and March, "that you would consider rejoining the Sentinels."

"I'm leaving." She turned around-"Could you-" -and walked away, saying, "No," without so much as turning around.

"-at least hear us out? For old time's sake?" Mantellan asked. She stopped moving.

"I left for a reason."

"And that reason is now dead," Rhennish said, voice uncharacteristically terse. Aetherna posture stiffened. After a moment standing there, she turned around, pulled back the seat and set herself down. Seeing her remain silent, Mantellan picked up the thread again.

"In light of recent events – and longer-running issues left unaddressed, I must admit – Rhennish and I feel that in order for the Sentinels to continue, we need new members." He nodded towards us, Aetherna turning to look.

"As for Crowsong and Jester: they contacted us out of a desire to share resources, intelligence, and perhaps future cooperation. In return we invited them to join, but they have yet to reach a decision. They hope that talks between us would help inform them to make one – be it for or against joining." Aetherna examined us for a second. Then, with a deep sigh, the tension flowed out of her.

"Right. Sorry you had to witness that," she said, sounding genuine. A small, pleasant smile appeared on her lips. With none of the shortness she had before, she said, "Sorry for not introducing myself. Aetherna, solo vigilante. I mostly stick around Greenside and southern Portside, though I do cross the sound if necessary." Her smile turned self-deprecating.

"As you've no doubt guessed by now, I used to be a Sentinel– oh, what was it? About a decade ago? Used to learn under that one." A nod towards Mantellan.

"But eh, paths diverge. Either way, it's nice to meet you two. And you as well March – despite my issues with the Sentinels, it's good to meet you." Amber and I made our own short introductions before March did the same. We turned back to the topic at hand, some of the stern attitude from before returning to Aetherna.

"I understand the issue, but, even if we let bygones be bygones – and that's a big if – I still don't see a reason why I should rejoin," Aetherna said.

"Especially now that the Jannacht have gone and most of the villains I deal with are solos or Magistry clowns." She sniffed disdainfully at the mention of Magistry.

"Regardless of your opinion on them, those 'clowns' are dangerous," Rhennish said.

"Especially now that they've become more active. With Friend-of-Fiends expanding their roster beyond the usual menagerie, and the mass of summons they've been calling, they're no doubt going to be a problem sooner rather than later. And you know better than I what kind of trouble they bring when feeling… motivated." On the table, Mantellan's hand curled into a fist, Aetherna letting out a hissy exhale.

March looked at them with her head slightly tilted, likely wondering the same thing I was: what were they talking about? It wasn't hard to hear the hidden meaning whistle by as it flew straight over our heads. Amber must've felt similarly, because she straight-up asked about it.

"What do you mean?" A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Aetherna was the one that answered.

"Magistry… they're not like most groups of villains." Unsurprising; they were international. It'd be weirder if they were.

"They – like some others, but them most of all – truly believe in the magic of our, well, magic. Rather than seeing magic as emerging co-dependent with powers, or that superpowers are another manifestation of magic – or vice versa – they believe in the long and dubious histories of magecraft that dot the globe."

"Even worse, what sets them apart specifically from, say, the White Mage Society in the far south," Mantellan said, "is the type of historical magics they find as either praiseworthy, particularly potent or worthy of emulating."

"Occultism," Aetherna again, "demonology, goetia, alchemy, blood sorcery, necromancy, devilry and diablerie, the false Vodou of the pretender-Baron – dark magic, in short. The kind that once called to the void, opened hell-portals or left ghost towns in the wake of their dark sacrifices. And while the Magistry of today holds to the Treaty, their pre-Treaty founders had not. That's more than just a particularly difficult stain on their reputation; it's their legacy."

"Which has been an issue for practitioners like us," Mantellan said.

"Although not as bad is in my mentor's day, I remember when magic users were shunned, even hunted down regardless of their alignment or method of practice – extending even to resurrectors, let alone reanimators. So even if Magistry holds itself to higher standards nowadays, there's always the concern they do something to set the acceptance of magic back to the Dark Age. That, and there's a lot of old resentment that gets passed down." Aetherna snorted.

"Not that that needs much encouragement. Even the autodidacts and others studying the field on their own grow to hate them quickly enough."

"So with that in mind," Rhennish said, taking her words as a positive sign, "I ask again: are you willing to join?" Aetherna ponderously tapped her fingers against the table.

"What would that look like, practically speaking?" Aetherna asked.

"Even if I join, that would mean three adults and three children – and no offence, but you already retired once Mantellan."

"We can take care of ourselves," Amber said, somewhat offended. I found myself in agreement with her. Whatever the problems Soliloquy and Nth-Sight's deaths have had on me, I knew we were capable enough to hold our own. We'd done more than enough to prove ourselves.

"It's not about taking care of yourself," Aetherna placated.

"Or not just about that, at least. It's about effectiveness. About optics. Although the Treaty protects you somewhat from adult villains while allowing you to attack them without fear of life, it has its limits. There's a reason it's preferred that minors keep to a 'league of their own' so to speak – why junior heroes fight junior villains, and junior villains are more often than not solos.

"No adult masked likes fighting, let alone losing against teenagers. And if you keep pushing even after multiple defeats – yours or theirs – they will find a way to strike back, either by stacking the odds for another junior to take you down, or doing it themselves and damn the consequences – if there even are any. Having an adult there helps take away some of the resentment built from hurt egos, and if you add to the fact that fear-of-life is still a valid reason for self-defense regardless of age…"

Before I could object, "Remember Darkstar," Amber said. I tensed – for more reasons than one.

"Despite the boundary, lines can be blurry. Darkstar would've gone too far back then if you'd truly died, but temporarily crippling you? After you kept attacking?" I remained silent. Amber turned to the others.

"Aetherna does have a point, though. So far, things have worked out despite, maybe even because we work seperately. And to be frank, I don't want to be lorded over by another vigilante merely because they're an adult – Sentinel or not."

"None of us here do," Rhennish said.

"And Aetherna's point mainly counts when it comes to going on the offensive – not the things you've been doing so far with breaking up masked battles. I would assume that, if you join, we would coordinate major offenses so that there would be an adult with you when you do." Amber and I exchanged glances, after which she nodded, conceding the point.

"As for other members, we have already talked to one other," Rhennish said.

"Blade Eater." Aetherna huffed dismissively, but didn't say anything. Blade Eater was, according to everything I could find, a bit eccentric even by vigilante standards.

"And there is fifth we have our eyes on," Mantellan said.

"One that we hope you can agree the need on."

"Of course you know about Changelinger." If Aetherna grimaced at the mention of Blade Eater, she now outright scowled. Odd, I hadn't heard of him before.

"He's new to this – too new. He still needs to learn a lot before he's ready to go all-out."

"He doesn't have to be ready yet," Mantellan said.

"There's plenty of time to teach him. And, if you accept, I'm willing to offer my expertise as well. Even adopt him as a full apprentice, if both he and you agree." Aetherna seemed both shocked and intrigued by that.

"You would-""As you said, these old bones don't have long left." He chuckled.

"Wouldn't want all that knowledge to go to waste now, would I?" Again, what was said went over my head – and Amber's, and maybe March and Rhennish's too – but this time no one asked for clarification. Whatever this was, it seemed like power-related stuff rather than need-to-know stuff.

"But again, what about practicalities?" Aetherna asked.

"How would everything work? Is it just sharing information on SentiNet, or do we coordinate schedules? Patrol together or apart? Rush to the other's aid when we notice they're fighting, or only respond when they make emergency calls? My work is done mostly in Greenside and south Portside, and while you three-" she indicated March, Rhennish and Mantellan, "-are also in Greenside and Little Europe, you two-" a nod to Amber and I, "-are in Northside and Blade Eater is in Riverside. We'd be spread thin already.

And who'd cover Bayside? Aberdeen? The Hub?" She shook her head.

"If you want a Sentinel renaissance, cover needs to be total. At the very least, the Sentinels need to be seen everywhere, if not be everywhere."

"One step at a time," Rhennish said. Before Aetherna could say something, he continued, "How can we discuss specifics before knowing whether we have a team at all?" Aetherna seemed accepting of that logic, withholding further remarks. Rhennish continued.

"Then I suppose that's it for now. Unless someone wants to say something further?" Nobody did. He rose from his chair, Mantellan and March following. Amber, Aetherna and I stood up as well.

"Then let's call it for today, allow things settle in. And of course, if you have any questions – or reached a decision – you know how to contact us." And, after some goodbyes, with an enthusiastic wave and pleading looks from March, we all went our separate ways. X We returned to our home-away-from-home, the 4M warehouse, by bike, Amber practicing her driving skills as we drove through the quiet city streets all the way back from Aberdeen – on my back, specifically.

Once there, I shifted back to base form and while Amber unlocked the door, asked, "Sooo… yes or no?"

"What do you think?" Amber asked, entering the compound. I followed right behind.

"I think it's obvious: we join." Amber snorted.

"Eager, huh." We didn't go toward the lounging area. Rather, we went to where the weights and dummies were, the racks of Amber's so-called training knives hung, and where the obstacle course we still hadn't finished sat disassembled. The training area, in short. Specifically, the sparring mats.

"What're the downsides?" I asked, putting on martial arts gloves. Amber put on her own, one with small 'knives' – studs made of an oddly soft, almost putty-like metal – covering her knuckles.

"We get new contacts, access to their network, backup when we need to. We can even join bigger operations like we did in the Jannacht days! Or better yet: plan them! And all they ask of us is to do things we would've done either way if they asked." We both took stances on opposite sides. While Saturdays weren't normally training days, we shuffled the schedule around a bit so we could do the meeting without cutting a patrol short.

Not that we had that solid a schedule in the first place, but it was the principle of the thing.

"I don't know," Amber said, lightly jabbing with deliberately-slow strikes. Equally slowly, I dodged and weaved between each them as we settled into a rhythm. We always started slow, aiming for something more dance-like than an all-out brawl to start things off with.

"Blackhawk always spoke positively about the Sentinels, but he must've left for a reason." My turn to attack came. I struck with fists and feet, using sweeping attacks as taught to me by Mister Karaketov and Saga – some just learned earlier today – while aiming to create an opening. Not a real one, of course; merely going through the motions of one.

"Maybe they were different then," I suggested.

"I mean, they've stuck mostly to Greenside and Little Europe for a long time. Maybe it was the same back in his day and he wanted to go elsewhere?"

"Maybe. They did when I first started at least." Amber gestured and I sped up the pace.

"When I met them… I thought they were relics, you know? March had yet to join them back then, and Mantellan was on the verge of retirement, so they were basically two elderlies and two waiting to become elderly."

"Hmm," I hmm-ed idly.

"Well, they clearly want to change. So why not get in early?" Unexpectedly, Amber counterattacked right when I made a grab for her cloak. She dodged my arm by swaying backwards before closing in, striking with her right towards my side. It was still much slower than normal, so despite the surprise I managed to step closer and lean into it, attempting to hold her right arm between my left arm and side – also deliberately slow, of course. Amber retreated before I could complete the maneuver.

"I just… kinda want it to be the two of us without that kind of supervision," Amber admitted.

"Without them hovering over us. I don't hate the Sentinels, but when adults and juniors team up…" We increased the pace again and put in the effort to perform a 'real' mock battle – albeit without going extreme, be it on the use of powers or intensity of our strikes. Neither of us were aiming for victory yet.

"From what they said it sounds more like a loose affiliation rather than, I don't know, a gang?" Amber snorted at my choice of words. I tried taking advantage of the distraction, but I was too slow. She dodged my grab by simply leaning back out of reach. I continued.

"Sharing information and informants, cross-city cooperation and help with tackling bigger threats; all without really being a part of a larger organization. That's why they emphasized the local, I think."

"Hm. Maybe."

"Besides, if they do overstep, we can just leave. Like Blackhawk did when he felt… whatever it was he felt back then." That seemed to get through to her somewhat.

"I suppose," she said.

"It's not like it is with the heroes – there are no contracts, no payments or stipends. No leash. Joining the Sentinels isn't a job." There was a vehemence there I was surprised by, but I let it slip past.

"Exactly." Amber lowered her arms. Unseen, I raised my eyebrows but followed suit.

"And… you think this will help with your…?" She awkwardly gestured towards her head.

"You know?" I snorted, then broke out in giggles. Under normal circumstances I feel like I should be offended at the gesture – I wasn't crazy, just an android going Mad – but her sincerity combined with her discomfort took out all the sting. That, or I really was going crazy. Amber huffed.

"I'm serious!"

"Sorry, sorry," I said, calming down.

"I don't know if it would help. My problems -" I repressed the urge to giggle again, "-aren't that connected with joining the Sentinels. So I can't say if it would help, but…" I shrugged. I already knew it wouldn't. At best it might pull back my Heroic Impulse from directly interfering or pushing me harder, but what the exact relation was between my increasingly-separate-feeling Heroic Impulse and my devolvement into a Mad Android, I still didn't know. But so what? Even if it wouldn't stop it, "Worst case scenario?

It'd mean something," I said.

"That we're trying our best at the very least. And best-case scenario? We could really put a dent into Motorgang."

"That'd be good," Amber agreed, amused.

"And it would at least mean no more solo outings, right?" Her amusement turned sharp, critical. I shrugged, the picture of nonchalance.

"It was you who said kicking ass was the best form of therapy." Amber laughed.

"I did say that, didn't I?" she said.

"Well, let's hope the Sentinels run a good practice then." And with that we resumed our spar, this time in earnest.