Clemency

I wished I had paid more attention to the old legends, the ones about the origin of the Clemency Stone. But I never thought that they were actually true, and there were so many versions going around…

Of course, Colum and most of the senior members, they all believed one particular version wholeheartedly, and it just so happened to match up exactly with what was happening to Jade, as far as I could remember. "Come on, answer your phone," I muttered impatiently on the second ring. Luckily, Colum always answered his phone, without fail. In our group, phone calls were urgent as often as not.

"Yes?" he answered, not bothering with pleasantries.

"Sir, I need you to come down to the hospital as soon as possible." I glanced at Jade. She was staring at her finger, the one with the perfect little triquetra, with great interest. I frowned. Even by my standards, this was insanely weird- I could only imagine how she was taking it. But Jade had been through so much lately already, starting with being introduced into my world in the first place. Why did it have to be her? Was a little normalcy too much to ask?

Colum didn't ask any questions; he told me that he was on his way without hesitation. It made me feel good, that he trusted me enough to do as I asked. I was the highest ranking member in our group, discounting, of course, the elders- it was a hard-earned privilege

I was still pacing not much later when Colum entered Jade's hospital room, along with one of our elders, Wallace Conroy, who was arguably the best-versed person in our lore. I was glad that he was here because I had questions for him, more questions every instant. They nodded gravely to me before approaching Jade's bed. She was unconscious again, for which I was grateful. She was still weak and this wouldn't help her rest any easier.

Colum's expression remained carefully neutral as they approached her, but Wallace eyed Jade with reverence shining in his eyes. "What's going on?" I blurted out. "What's happening to her?"

Colum grimaced. I, as his most trusted, most experienced agent, should have been able to control myself better than that. I knew I was acting like a rookie, but where Jade was concerned, I had no pride left. I just wanted to know what this would mean for her. Surely that wasn't too much to ask.

Wallace ignored me completely. He picked up both of Jade's hands, turning them over and examining them. One gnarled, papery finger traced over the triquetra that I had already tried to scrub off. "Well, I never thought I would live to see this," he whispered to himself. Then he glanced at me with twinkling eyes. "But I'm glad I did." I opened my mouth to ask once more what all of this meant, but I managed to bite my tongue. My teeth made an audible clicking noise as I clenched them tight in an attempt to regain control.

Wallace smiled kindly. "Might I have a seat?" he asked. I gestured to the one that I had vacated upon Jade's awakening. He sat, groaning slightly and took his good sweet time settling himself. It was no wonder he was starting to feel the effects of his nearly two centuries of age.

The room fell into a deep quiet, one that I didn't feel comfortable breaking. Still, I was wracked with an impatience deeper than I had ever known before. "Pardon me, sir, but-"

"Patience, Carrick. It seems to me that this can wait for Jade's awakening. After all, it concerns her far more than it does you." I nodded stiffly and stared at Jade, willing her to awaken.

And to my astonishment, she did.

Her eyes fluttered open, the familiar bright green there instantly comforting me.

Nelly was right, I was too wrapped up in this. When had everything started revolving around her?

Those eyes met mine and her chapped lips formed a quiet smile. Then she turned her gaze to Colum and Wallace. "Hello," she said uncertainly.

Wallace's sage nod was undermined by his toothy grin. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Donahue. An absolute pleasure. My name is Wallace Conroy. This here is Colum, our boy Carrick's boss."

"Nice to meet you," Jade replied politely. She looked exhausted. I couldn't dismiss the idea that I had somehow woken her up, and I couldn't shake the guilt that came from that. She needed her rest. I knew that better than anyone, because I knew Jade better than anyone. The signs of it were etched all over her too-pale face.

"We've come to see that mark you've got there," Wallace continued, nodding his head toward her hand. Jade examined it reflexively, and I could tell the instant she remembered about the violet triquetra.

"So you know what it is, then, sir? Because frankly, it's kind of freaking me out." The room froze, suddenly tense. It was totally inappropriate to address an elder so. But Wallace, to my surprise, laughed, and laughed hard.

"You really are something else, Miss Donahue." I turned my head away to hide a smile. Only Jade could get away with addressing Wallace that way. "Yes, I believe I do know a thing or two about it. It all goes back to the tale of Rosamund the Pure.

"She was always an extraordinary girl, this Rosamund. She was unfailingly kind, wholly virtuous, and utterly beautiful. Perfection on earth, that's how her father liked to describe her, and he was right. She gave all that she had to those less fortunate than herself, often until she had nothing left for herself. That, perhaps, was her downfall. Her father, realizing perhaps, that if she did not marry a very wealthy man, she would run herself into the poor house and never look back. He would have been right, but that doesn't change the unfavorable way he's viewed in our community. Poor Colum, he's become a bit of a villain, I'm afraid." Jade glanced at my boss with wide, questioning eyes. To my utter astonishment, he laughed.

"No, my dear. Though I was named after Rosamund's father, I am not him."

"Sorry," she whispered, blushing. I bit my lip to keep from smiling.

Wallace shook his head indulgently and picked up where he left off. "This Colum, he betrothed his daughter to Lord Merrick, a dark wizard who was interested in her only for her beauty and dowry. He was a power-hungry man, and one who would let nothing get between him and what he wanted. He cheated, gambled, stole, and manipulated. Our Rosamund, she was a dutiful daughter and, though the thought of marriage to this man made her ill, she complied with her father's wishes."

"What?!" Jade objected. "How could she? How could she marry that slimeball?" She seemed to realize a second later that it was rude to interrupt. "Sorry, sir."

"Not at all. You're quite right. If her father had only seen Lord Merrick for what he was, a lot of grief could have been avoided. But destiny, it has a funny way of working things out. See, it wasn't long before Merrick started beating his young wife with the least excuse. She had stayed out too late helping with the birth of a village woman's child. She had donated too much of his hard-earned food to the homeless wretches who slept in gutters and fed on rats. And Rosamund let him, because she believed that God would bring him to justice in his own time. She developed sneakier ways of aiding those in need, and she learned to avoid her husband whenever he was in a particularly violent mood. She bore him a son, which gave her several blissful months without punishment. Rosamund would have lived thus forever, I believe, if he hadn't taken things a step too far one day, beating not only her, but their small son.

"Later that night, after Lord Merrick fell into a drunken slumber, Rosamund ran into the kitchen and picked up their largest knife, slipping it into her waistband, just in case. Then she gathered up her most prized possessions and her son and she fled. Rosamund never looked back, but she did carry that knife on her always, from that day forward. She refused to be left unable to defend her son ever again.

"That might be the end of my story, if fate hadn't caught up with them. Rosamund was walking home from the clinic where she worked with her son resting on her hip when she encountered Lord Merrick. He had tracked her down, determined to take back what was his. When Rosamund refused to return home with him, he grabbed on to her long, unbound hair, pulling it so hard that her head cracked into a wall. Rosamund cried out in pain, and two men from the village heard her distress and came running. They tore Lord Merrick away from her and beat him bloody, for the one had Rosamund to thank for his own son's life, and the other had been fed many a dinner by her hand. Everyone in the town where Rosamund sought refuge treasured her, and none would live to see her abused.

"The two of them would have beaten Lord Merrick to death then and there, for they had pieced together the tale of his cruelty over long months of prying, but for Rosamund's interjection. She bid them stop, she insisted he be left for fate to punish. She wanted him to have the chance to learn the error of his ways, however unlikely.

"But Lord Merrick simply didn't have it in him. The very next week, he struck down Rosamund, so hard that she died not much later." Wallace's voice faltered and I could see the glint of tears in his eyes.

"What? That can't be right. She didn't deserve that at all," Jade muttered sadly. "How could he? And how must her father have felt?"

"Very guilty indeed, I'd wager," Colum said quietly. He glanced at Wallace, bowing his head respectfully. "Why don't I take over?" Wallace nodded almost imperceptibly. "Well, Rosamund's goodness did not go unrewarded. Her son was given a pendant, one with powers unheard of in those times, so that when he encountered the likes of Lord Merrick, he would be better prepared. With the stone came a mark such as the one you now bear, a mark that carries a great power, itself. My dear, the bearer is truly blessed. Only on one other occasion has another been chosen to wear it. In order to do so, one must embody the ideals that Rosamund treasured. Selflessness, mercy, goodness."

"But why me?" Jade asked. "I am no one of those."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Jade, you're not self-centered enough to recognize just how good you are." It was all that I could manage for now, as my mind was reeling. She had been given almost unheard-of powers. No wonder she had been able to save Nelly. No wonder I couldn't stop thinking about her.