Conviction

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======Abius Marshal Eternity======

==== A Reunion ====
It wasn’t easy for Abius to return to Wesmarch. So much had happened. There was so much he had left unsaid. He had sent letters, of course, but it was hard to know how much had made it through the Commission’s net, or the chaos after they began to crumble. He had his letter from Arthur, though. He knew that they were there, just waiting for him to return. And so, for once, he set aside his selfless work and arranged to leave Bexgate.

The return journey from Bexgate was so different from the one to Wesmarch. The reason: not fleeing from, this time, but running to. The emotions: a little fear and guilt, perhaps, but the shame would not keep Abius from them now, after he had been so afraid for them for so long. The scenery: the view from the train window seemed almost strangely warped to his eyes, and the distinctions between Wesmarch and Bexgate so much starker.

When he arrived, it was his mother waiting at the station for him. She scarcely spoke as she brought him home for the first time in so long, the tension straining the very air between them. Once Abius started speaking, though, it seemed he would never stop. Telling her of the deal he had made to save Arthur, the letters he’d tried to send to them, the demons in St. Renagi’s, the Commission’s cruelty, his quavering faith. She let the words flow out of her son until he seemed to run dry, and took him into her arms as though he were a child once more.

Seeing Arthur was his highest priority, though. He didn’t want to think about how much he would have grown, how he might have changed. Because it was //good//, of course, to see him older, to see him //alive// and happy. But to have spent so much time with someone. To have spent so long being certain that they would all too soon be gone. To have spent so many months hoping beyond all hope that he would still be safe.

The reunion was as anticlimactic as it could have been, and perhaps Abius shouldn’t have been so surprised. Arthur was still so young, even if it seemed he had shot up a clear foot since he last saw him. When he first came in, Arthur hung back, diffident, full of exaggerated offence that Abius had so completely disappeared from his life. But with little more than a short apology, Arthur was soon charging around the room with Abius in tow, determined to show Abius everything he had been missing, talking at an almost unintelligible pace.

Seeing him so full of joy, so free of care… Abius couldn’t help but think he was right, after all. This was what had always mattered most, far more than his faith in God or angels. What world could be better without Arthur in it?

==== Humans and Hell ====
There was no way that Rena & Aster were going to take over Uriel’s biweekly meetings. Neither were inclined towards that kind of leadership after what they had been through. Abius, on the other hand, was ready to lead in a new way. Not guiding parishioners through discussion of scripture. No, it had been a while since he’d wanted to do that. Reminding people of the good to be found in one another, that was what mattered to him now.

It was an interesting group of people. A few parishioners of St. Renagi’s, such as Alex Oakley, Yves Corbet, Gerard Lex, and even the pastor, Jamie Holton-Woodward. Some former members of Uriel’s own group who had also turned away rather from prayer had also gradually drifted into joining Abius each week. A few others from the wider Bexgate community, and occasionally beyond, could also be counted among the ranks.

Breaking down a lifetime of memorised scripture and rules and expectations is a protracted task, but with Abius very much on the same journey as them, they could guide one another. Sometimes scripture would be discussed, but primarily in the context of what good //could// be drawn from it. Abius would rarely let such discussions run long.

One key point of discussion was something that Teresa had learned from Thrl some time ago, which she had of course shared in turn with her fellow reluctant witch. The fear he’d held – that so many held – of being Damned, of being destined to languish in Hell upon his death. It was not so true as they had thought. You have to agree to it, on some level, at your death. It is not an inevitable consequence of making a deal with a demon; of being a witch. Once again, the scripture and the words of Hell & Heaven, they did not reflect the interests of humans. Once again, proof that humans can continue to do good in the world, regardless of mistakes or hard decisions made in the past.

The group was a comfort and source of strength for all who attended, whether for a short while, or from the beginning.

==== Traitor ====
Crossing the rift in Bexgate is a simple affair. The roads are long since repaired, and only a row of weathered old signs and a line of paint marks the boundary. Not to prevent anyone from crossing, just to inform anyone who chooses not to which places to avoid. Abius, not caring what Heaven thinks, doesn't even glance at the signs as he approaches, but a little motion on the other side catches his eye. An ugly bald cat squats in a corner, scowling at him across the rift. He slows down and stops before crossing the line, not sure whether to continue. The cat pounces, its legs stretching far longer than they should to propel it forwards, its body expanding as it flies through the air. Its motion is halted exactly above the line, some of its spittle continuing onwards to Abius where it can't pass itself. He turns and runs, away to safety, back home to the West, as the monster rages at the wall and shouts threats ineffectually, before it has time to throw things.

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