No comments - or maybe a few [Irene & Cadmus & Dominic]

The weather was nice today. Just like the day before, the sun was up, only hiding behind a few clouds every now and then. After a quick chat with Saga - nothing serious, just to tell her that Dominic still advised her from getting herself further involved with the EFA for the time being - Dominic had been told that today had felt like the first real day of summer. He had no way of knowing whether that was true or just another example of Saga's exaggerated positivity, since he hadn't been out in the sun himself. He had spend the whole day inside, working - and hiding, to be frank. The upcoming interview had made him paranoid, made worse by the fact that some stranger had been able to find them, dare he say, so easily. They had had no uninvited guests - well, other than Gwyn, but she had at least been invited by Idés - for as long as the HQ had been here, and then suddenly their hiding spot had been revealed. At least to one but one had the potential of becoming more.
The sun wasn't even visible now - Dominic and Cadmus had decided to pull down the blinds, turning on the lights in the Cadmus' room instead. It hadn't actually been necessary, as most of Cadmus' view was blocked by a brick wall of another building, and how would anyone look into the window of the upper floor? Still, it eased Dominic's nervousness a tiny bit. He didn't know if Cadmus just went along with pulling down the blinds to help his friend or if he felt the paranoia too. He didn't feel like asking either.

The two men had placed the chairs on the same side of Cadmus' desk and were sitting down, both of them looking into screen of Dominic's laptop which right now only showed the desktop background, one of the basic images of nature that come with the computer set-up.
Dominic's heart was beating painfully in his chest. He felt his breath threatening to turn shallow and forced himself to breathe down into his chest. He was thankful that it was only Cadmus who sat here with him. Even when trying to hide it, he knew his nervousness was clear to see, even if it hadn't been a trained Nachon Warlock by his side. At least he was used to Cadmus knowing his feelings anyways. Then Dominic could focus on just getting the interview right; not how he looked to the man next to him while doing so. Besides, he wasn't sure he would be able to do the interview without Cadmus. Dominic was able to carry a lot of heavy things on his shoulder, but this one might have been to heavy to carry alone. Not that he would ever admit that out loud but maybe his nervousness was admission enough.

"It's almost 6," he said, looking down at the time shown at the corner of his computer. They were supposed to put in the USB-drive, that had been given to them, and open the file, when the clock turned 6PM.
Idés had had a look at the USB-drive they had been given for the interview to make sure it was safe. Even though he had assured Dominic that it was safe to use and that it wouldn't share their IP address, Dominic still had his doubts. He looked at the USB drive, that rested almost tauntingly next to the laptop.
The timer was now 5:59PM. Dominic took yet another deep breath. He barely moved, simply staring down the USB-drive and the timer, only moving his eyes between them, not even turning his head.
"Ready?" he asked Cadmus as he let go of the breath he had forced himself to hold down in his stomach. He had the voice of a leader, stern and sturdy. Still, he couldn't look at Cadmus. And his heart was beating just as fast as time was running.

It had been a long day, but at least it hadn't been raining. As slight as this comfort seemed, Cadmus gladly took it. Where he knew Dominic had spent the day panicking over the interview, this was a luxury Cad wished could only wish upon himself. The meeting with his dear friend Acheron the day before yesterday, had left him soaked, frozen, extremely stressed and with a list of things needed to infiltrate some event in the building he had spent the day obtaining the blueprints to. At least, this was his theory. The treasure hunt he had been given, had left him very little time to think about the upcoming interview, and despite knowing its importance, he was starting to regret accepting the job.

Especially now, sitting next to a very stressed Dom at the desk in his own room. There was nothing like wanting to retire, whilst being in the room you normally retired to. Being able to feel just how nervous and also, slightly paranoid, Dominic was, he felt a surge of guilt for wanting to quit on him. There was no denying that Cad was needed for this. He was already doing the bare minimum in keeping the EFA running, and he supposed he needed to pay back for having a place to stay somehow. Maybe his calmness would rub off on Dom? He kept this wishful thinking to himself, and spent some time staring at Dominic’s computer background. He wondered why Dom had not changed it. Didn’t he have any personal pictures? Not that Cad really knew that much about the man whose home he had been allowed to stay at for years. Maybe this same lack of customisation was the result of the same privacy?

From time to time he glanced at the USB. Although Idés had declared it safe, he was not quick to trust technology. Heck, he didn’t even own a phone for fear of being somehow tracked down. But here, they had no real choice but to trust Edita’s client. Irene Ford was definitely someone. It was one thing for her to be a brilliant journalist, Cad had to remind himself, it was yet another to be trustworthy. As the digital numbers on the laptop changed, and it was time for the interview, he was somehow less nervous than excited. "Go ahead."

The evening sun showered the beige office in its golden rays through the large windows. Large green plants were strewn in between the expensive furniture and deserted desks. Most had long since left for the day in order to enjoy the spring sun. Except for one woman. Her heels tapped underneath her as she went over her notes one final time, tapping the sheets of paper with her pen. She looked over at the clock on the walls. It wouldn’t be long now. She moved to her desk, picking up the cardboard boxes from her take away dinner and moved them to the trash. Then she sat down in the brown leather office chair and opened her computer. Articles upon articles about nachon discourse along with news covering of the prince's death littered her desktop. She closed down the tabs. She then gathered her hair together in a hairclip, taking a deep breath. It wasn’t often that she was nervous before an interview. But then again, it wasn’t often she interviewed potential terrorists. But the nerves were outweighed by giddy excitement at the fact that this was finally coming together.

She gathered her papers by tapping them on her desk before laying them out neatly. She then opened her webcam to make sure she looked alright. She adjusted the angle so that it would be just right and then adjusted the folds of her white blouse. She fished out a lipstick from her designer bag and reapplied the nude color, before adjusting the way her blonde hair fell from the hairclip. Once decently satisfied that she looked completely put together and professional she closed down the webcam viewer and activated a screen recorder.

The clock on the little corner of her screen turned 18:00. It was time. She reached over in her desk drawer, picking out the USB port and placing it into a computer. She braced herself as the program buffered and connected, a practiced and welcoming smile taking its place upon her lips. Under normal conditions she preferred to do her interviews face to face. The barrier of a screen made room for miscommunications and felt too sterile. Not to mention the dimension of body language that would be lost in this specific interview, as they would only be able to see her, while she not them. It was a necessary evil in order to facilitate this interview. It made them secure in their anonymity and ensured that she would not be in any physical danger. It also meant she wouldn’t have to lie to the Godia about the identities of the EFA as she would be just as in the dark as everyone else.

Then two little boxes appeared on her desktop. The first being her mirrored image as broadcasted by the webcam with the text written above reading ‘Irene Ford’. The other bore the name ‘EFA’ and only showcased a silhouette picture, in the place where their faces should have been.

She straightened her back and crossed her legs, folding her hands around her knee. “Good evening!” She greeted. Her tone was chipper and welcoming, the best she could do to appear as non-threatening and trustworthy as was possible over a video chat. “Allow me to start by thanking you for agreeing to do this. I understand that this is a greater risk for you than it is with me. So, thank you.”

“I am required to inform you that while I am protected under the ‘Free Expression of the Journalistic Press’ act, that you guys are not. That means that all material and recordings relating to this interview are required by law to be handed over to the appropriate authorities at the same moment that the piece goes public,” she explained, gesturing with her hands to indicate that this was non-negotiable. “As I am sure you are already aware.”

“Now, with that out of the way. How are you this evening?” In her experience, people were much more willing to share important information if they felt at ease. Now, she of course didn’t expect much from them in terms of general politeness and niceties. They came from a segment of society she wasn’t at all familiar with. “As you probably know, I’m Irene Ford, lead investigative journalist for the Cirrane Press society. Now, I understand the importance of anonymity in this interview and I will adhere to that. Still, are there any names or titles you wish to be referred by in this piece?”

'Go ahead', Cadmus said, and Dominic took note of how he didn't really answer if he was ready. But then again, neither was Dominic, and in the end they had to do this, feeling ready for it or not. So when the digital timer changed to 6PM, Dominic grabbed the USB and inserted it into the computer. He thought he would have a hard time doing so, but his movements happened automatically, as if he was a machine designed to do so. It was probably the constant worrying and preparing over the last few days that had accustomed him to the action.

Before he had time to think any further about it, the USB was in his laptop and an unknown program showed on his screen. A audiovisual communications platform, it seemed, but not the ones that Dominic had seen used before. Dominic had never used any of such programs himself, as it was too risky to use in the EFA, but he had seen videos where people had been interviewed and had meetings long-distance and of course he had read up on it, so he knew how it worked. It did calm him a bit to see the box that represented him and Cadmus only showing a fake silhouette. On the other box Irene Ford was showing. A good-looking woman indeed and she seemed to also have made herself look nice to this interview. That didn't surprise Dominic - in his research on her, it had been made clear to him, that Ford made a great effort of looking good and showing off her style. A journalist knowing how to brand herself wasn't surprising at all. It was only a testament to her skills.

Dominic crossed his arms as the woman started speaking, looking at her part of the screen as she did. It was actually kind of nice to not have to worry about how he looked to her, as Dominic knew he had a tendency of looking hostile just when he relaxed his face. His nervousness was still a part of him, his heart still pounding in his chest, but it was more in the background, now that he had something to actually do about it. He didn't have time to feel nervous about a mission while he was on it. Now he had to actually be present.
He didn't greet Ford, even though she greeted them. If Cadmus felt like greeting her, he could. Dominic didn't want to say anything else than what was necessary for the interview. He nodded along to her explanation of the ‘Free Expression of the Journalistic Press’ act. He had read up about it, so yes, he was aware of it, but it did help that she mentioned it as well. Of course, he would have preferred that she didn't have to hand anything over, but he understood why she had to do it - since she was, as opposed to Cadmus and Dominic, a legal, law-abiding citizen. At least she was upfront about it; that was a good sign that she was doing this correctly, nothing backhanded.

The journalist asked how they were this evening, and yet again Dominic let Cadmus answer that. As if they both were feeling anything but crap - the most prevalent feeling in the EFA, it sometimes felt like - but Cadmus had the charm to small-talk and answer in an insignificant, yet charismatic way. Dominic did not have that ability at all. No, it was better than he waited to say something to when it was in regards to the actual interview. Which it finally was when Ford asked about names.
"You can use Anthony and Augustus," he said. His heart skipped a beat with the knowledge that he had just spoken publicly for the first time in over 10 years. Even if his voice was altered through the program - which he really hoped Idés had been right about - that thought was jarring to him. "As aliases," he added.
The names had been Cadmus' idea. They had assumed that Ford would ask such question to begin with, and while Dominic had suggested to just let her choose whatever, Cadmus had decided to choose for them. Dominic could see the logic behind that; giving the journalist any freedom to put a name on them could result in her indirectly twisting the story. Better not give her any more freedom to write this story than what she already had.

Other than that, Dominic didn't say anything else. Ford was the one doing the interview, not him. He just, anxiously but determined, waited for the first question to hit them.

It did not really matter if they were ready or not. The digital clock announced that it was time, and Cadmus watched as Dominic inserted the USB and launched a video call program he did not know. And there she was; Irene Ford, looking great as always. It was part of her brand, always looking this well-put together, and still, there was something comical about it. As if she wanted to impress them. Or maybe intimidate them. She was, after all, he reminded himself, about to interview two terrorists. She had no reason to want to do either, and yet she did. He at least was impressed, and he longed to step inside the screen, to the golden lit office room on the other side, shake her hand and talk to her as an equal, as someone who belonged to her world. Instead, he sat here in his own office, with his mostly useless window, and Dom, of course; None of it visible to Irene. Maybe that was a good thing. Apart from the obvious security factors, he did not think he and Dom looked anywhere presentable enough.

“Good evening” He replied, realising that Dom had no intentions of such courtesies. They might be criminals, but they weren’t savages. And he was a bit disappointed in Dominic for not stepping up his game. Nervousness was not an excuse for impoliteness. “Thank you for giving us this opportunity.”

This was just another conversation. A weird one, where he could not anticipate the next sentence, know what they wanted him to say, where he could not utilise any physical charisma. Where words were everything, and even his voice would be obscured. Where everything they said could be used against them, as Irene now informed them. But they’d already known this. And agreed to it. Which he now did again: “We are.”

How were they tonight? “Very well, thank you.” which was far from true. “We can't thank you enough, you have risked a lot for this, and we really appreciate that. Hopefully you are doing equally well?” He'd leaned back whilst speaking, noticing now that he was mirroring Irene, crossing a leg. It was a useless curtesy, when she could not see him. But, all these formalities and pleasantries did ease him, made it feel more like a conversation than an interrogation, which he supposed was the point. She wanted them to relax. To trust her. And he really wanted to. She was Irene Ford.  

He was quiet as Dominic gave her their alibis. Anthony and Augustus. He had to admit he had come to like coming up with names. As if he could bury himself beneath layers of deception. Maybe he could. For now, all he could do was sit back and ready himself for whatever Irene wanted to ask them.

Her heart almost skipped a beat at the robotic voice that politely greeted her in return.  A part of her almost hadn’t expected to get anything in return at all. The person seemed well-mannered, even thanking her in return. Which didn’t go unappreciated either. “I’m doing very well too, thank you.”

Then when she asked for their names, another person spoke. Even with their voices distorted the two sounded distinct enough for Irene to be able to tell them apart. She noted that this person did not answer any of her courtesy questions, only springing into action when they got down to business. She decided against drawing any conclusion upon that just yet, but it was very interesting. Anthony and Augustus. As she noted it down she pondered the reason behind the choice of names. She had come across them once in her student days, she thought, something related to antiquity. But perhaps the names had just been picked at random, as she somewhat doubted the educational background of a criminal organization. Either way, she might contact Charlotte to double check. She looked back up at the camera, smiling once again. “Well, Anthony and Augustus. It’s very nice to meet you both. I have three topics I would like to hear your thoughts about. The first one is, as you have probably anticipated, about the recent event.“

“So. Let’s get started, shall we?” She flipped which leg was on top, while sliding the sheets of paper in front of her.

"Now, in light of the recent murder of the late Theodore Armani of Ilomar, everyone’s full blame has been pointed towards you.” Irene started. She glanced down at her notes.
“In an interview for the Thelmian Times the minister of security, Morgan Sutton, even went as far as describing your organization as both ‘a group of violent terrorists’ and ‘an undeniable force of Tarrons evil.’” She once again pointed her attention to the camera. “So my question is: How do you respond to such accusations?”

Dominic's eyes glanced over at Cadmus, as the man spoke with Ford. There was no doubt that Cadmus was a likeable man who knew how to come off as charismatic. Even Dominic who didn't really think about such qualities had noticed that about him just at his way of handling meeting and one-on-one conversations. But even when knowing about Cadmus' way with words, it was different seeing it now with a person such as Irene Ford. A famous, elite woman who were only talking to them because of her controversial news article. Even with the clear difference between her and Cadmus - with her stunning looks and Cadmus simply being a anonymous figure on the screen and honestly not looking that well in real life either - Cadmus still managed to seem more aligned with Ford than he did with Dominic.

Dominic suddenly felt just a tad self-conscious. The contrast between Cadmus' charming small-talk and Dominic's stand-offish short responses were big enough for him to take a look down at himself and the way he was sitting. Did he seem like a tough leader? Or did he seem like a grumpy child? Maybe he could try to be a bit more charismatic? But really, Dominic didn't know where to start. The last 10 years hadn't been about charm, only about survival. Dominic had only been able to seem more social and friendly in meeting with important allies and even then it was only when he genuinely felt a friendliness towards them. Never before had he been in a situation where charm was necessary for survival, like now. He hadn't even considered meeting Irene Ford in her obvious inauthentic small-talk, because he knew that she wasn't here, meeting with them online, to chat with them about their day. But maybe it was worth a shot meet her, at least close to halfway. In a world where everyone were trying to label them as cruel and anti-social, maybe it was worth a shot to try and seem more friendly even towards the people who doubted them. Maybe.
With those reflections, Dominic changed the way he was sitting. Not that Ford could see him doing so, and he didn't even think about doing it. It just happened subconsciously; he stopped crossing his arms and sat more upright.
"Let us," he agreed to the journalist' proposition about getting started. He couldn't force himself to show any bit of eagerness but at least he said something.

He was prepared for her mentioning of crown prince. They both were, having met up before the interview to discuss how they would response to the questions they assumed she would ask them. The subject about the murder of the crown prince was an obvious one, it was most likely the reason for her wanting an interview with them.
Still, Dominic's jaw clenched the second the name was said out loud. As a reflex to prepare himself for what was coming next. He sat completely tense as she spoke, his hands 'resting' in his lap with his thumb rubbing the back of his other hand. It was one thing hearing those accusations being said out loud on TV and videos online. It was another hearing a journalist saying it out loud directly towards them.

And then she asked her first question. Again, a question that he and Cadmus had known would be there and had prepared for. Still, Dominic felt his tongue twisting in his mouth. He forced himself to breath in and then out through the nose, before adjusting his seating yet again.
Okay. Time of no return.
"The accusations aimed at the EFA are nothing more than the latest show of Nachon discrimination," he said, quickly glancing towards Cadmus before looking at the screen and continuing, “The labeling of Nachon Warlocks as doers of Tarron on earth is solely connected to fanatic religious views. Views that are extremely outdated and extremely dangerous.”
As he spoke, anger flared up inside of him. He clenched his hand with his other thumb to stop himself from getting riled up in his answer. He could feel the frustration flaring up inside of him. The need to defend himself and the need for Ford to understand him, which he doubted that she would.
But he forced himself to stay calm or at least sound calm, once again taking a deep breath before speaking.
"Our organization’s only aim is to support the citizens – the innocent citizens – of this country, who, having been denied a fair trial, are hunted, simply because of the fear installed by these views. And we’re extremely sorry that such allegations have been send our way. Especially as it has fueled the already burning fire of crimes aimed at Nachon Warlock in and outside of Ilomar."
Dominc hadn't noticed it, but he had leaned closer to the laptop while he was speaking. It was only now that he was done that he realized so and he leaned back against the chair again. He looked at Cadmus, silently asking him if he had anything to add. He was actually less tense now. Now he had said the most important point of what he and Cadmus had discussed: that the EFA, and all the Nachon Warlock whom they were protecting, were the victims, not the offenders.
Whatever happened now, they could say that they had tried to speak up. That they had done something. Dominic felt impowered by that thought.

He should not have been shocked at the brief look of surprise darting across Irene Ford’s face, at the return of her greeting; followed quickly by what he assumed was satisfaction? But it was so very hard to tell these things from behind the screen. Did Cad really take it for granted how easily people were usually read?
Whilst he had very limited knowledge of what was going on in the mind of their interviewer, Cadmus did however notice a shift in the man beside him. Was it this casual talking, the exchange of pleasantries and what not, that bothered his friend so? He frowned at the absurdity; really, this was nothing, he was only doing the bare minimum, being kind and all. Of course he had noticed Dominic’s lack of manners, but he had thought it an intentional show of rudeness. Why, he could not say. Dominic was not, after all, a rude person, he wasn’t the friendliest either, but Cad could accept the practicality of that. His responsibilities towards the EFA were more important than niceties. But maybe it was more than that? Maybe he simply hadn’t considered that talking to a journalist would require charm?

To Cadmus everything was about how one was perceived. He shuddered to think how Aurelius would have responded to knowing this. How very far he’d come, and yet here he sat, probably looking like shit, having had a terrible day, being confronted with accusations of a murder he had taken no part in, caring about how, not only he, but the both of them were perceived. Of course it was important. He was sure Irene could write an interesting article about his meeting with Colton Peterson earlier that day. He was sure Dominic too would be interested in learning of how little regard his friend held, well anything, when it came to meeting a certain list of demands before friday. Comforting himself he noted that he would never do such things, if he did not fully trust his own skills.
He was acutely aware of the danger of the game he was playing. The charm, the manners… These were childhood gifts that had allowed him to survive. Perhaps what had caused this need for survival in the first place too.

Dominic, however, might not know how important small-talk and pleasantries were? As said Dominic seemed to straighten, maybe in response to this, Cad too shifted his seat. Uncrossing his legs and straightening too, in preparation for the incoming questions. As agreed beforehand, Dominic took the lead, despite how tense and clearly discomforted he was. This was Dominic’s strength as a leader. Despite how uncomfortable he was with it, he did his duty. He himself on the other hand took it a lot better, at least if he had to say so himself. Maybe because he was not forced to speak, maybe because he could not allow himself to care about murder allegations. So he nodded supportingly, when Dom looked to him, and listened to what they had agreed to say. It made sense why Dom got angry, and Cad was proud of him for not getting carried away by it, but controlling his frustration, and continuing to speak somewhat calmly. The last thing they needed was to sound defensive. They were in the right, and so they had nothing to prove.

“Just to add to what Anthony already said; the aim of the organisation is to help, rehome and re-establish the Nachon warlocks failed by Ilomar.” He emphasised the word failed. Irene had to understand this, all of Ilomar had to. Even the ones that weren’t completely innocent did not deserve this treatment. They deserved the fair trial of everyone else. He kept his voice calm; trying to sound rational. “While we acknowledge that the helping and housing of Nachons is seen as a crime in the current system, this view is flawed, and we are fully supporting the decriminalisation of Nachon warlocks. As our aim has never been to spread fear, nor are we trying to attain said goals by violent means, the regrettable actions of other groups or individuals committing to violence in the name of the organisation, does not qualify us as a terrorist group. Thus we cannot plead guilty to the accusation of Morgan Sutton.”

The second person started answering her question, his tone one of seriousness even through the voice distorting filter. He denied their guilt, calling it an act of discrimination that they were suspected to begin with. Irene grabbed a pen and jotted down the words discrimination and religious fanaticism. Did they see themselves as opposed to the religious consensus amongst Ilomar residents? Irene took notes of this too, as something that might be interesting to question the men further about. The man speaking paused and Irene’s eyes darted to the screen. That couldn’t be all, could it? The man took a breath before he started to speak again. Was the man nervous, Irene wondered. It wouldn’t surprise her if he was. He went on to speak about the innocent nachon warlocks who were treated unfairly within the legal system. Irene nodded at that, it was a view-point she had stumbled upon plenty while researching for this piece. She made a circle around the word discrimination, when another voice started speaking. He called his counterpart Anthony, which must make him Augustus. Irene made a note of that.

He went on to give more background to the actual activities of the EFA. To help, rehome and re-establish. There was an extra emphasis on the fact that these warlocks had been failed by Ilomar, furthering the narrative of discrimination. He acknowledged that what they were doing was criminal. Irene noted down the word decriminalization alongside her other notes. She nodded alongst as he denied their status as a terrorist group, which Irene had anticipated. But would they define themselves as then? A relief organization? Activists? She jotted down questions regarding that as well –  this was a topic she had been planning to touch upon either way, so she might save that for later.

Then he stopped talking. She leaned back in her chair, pen resting against her chin as she formulated her answer and next question in her head. She glanced down at her notes. Three rows, one reading murder, one reading manifesto, and one reading acitvities. They had denied their guilt in the murder of the crown prince, as she had expected that they would, and there was little left to ask in that regard. She highly doubted they would know something, or share it if they did. Her eyes glanced over the phrases discrimination and religious fanaticism. This seemed as good of a time as any to move on to their ideological framework.

“Right,” she said, adjusting in her chair as she moved on to the next question. Which, she realized may come off as provocative, even before she had fully figured out how to articulate it. But such questions were also key in figuring out what sort of people she was dealing with. Would they react with anger or a well-balanced, diplomatic, non-answer like the sort of people she was used to? “You both mention discrimination as a major player in your work, which I would like you to elaborate on. Anthony, you mention religious fanaticism as something that’s a major part of what you're fighting against. Is your organization in opposition to the religious consensus and institutions within Ilomar?” She tapped her pen onto the paper in front of her. This wasn’t all. The two were relying on each other for support in their answers, which was understandable, but Irene couldn’t help herself in wanting to challenge it. Therefore, she strung along another question.  “And Augustus – you state that you 'are fully supporting the decriminalization of Nachon warlocks’. How would you instead propose that the system should handle and avoid crimes relating to the usage of Nachon powers?”

While Cadmus added the important point about them supporting the decriminalization of Nachon Warlocks, Dominic nodded along to show his agreement, despite Ford not being able to see him. They had discussed Cadmus’ point beforehand as well, but it was something else hearing how Cadmus worded it to the journalist. Cadmus truly had a way with words, a skill in crafting sentences rhetoric finesse. Yet again Dominic felt a relief in having him by his side. Not that Dominic was a bad speaker, he was quite good at getting his point across. But this interview wasn’t simply about getting their point across because their point could so easily be misinterpreted – by mistake or on purpose. They had to deliver their point in the best way possible, so the possibilities of misinterpretation were fewer. Avoiding them completely was impossible, but so far they were doing a decent job in at least limiting them, Dominic believed.

However, that didn’t stop him from warily eying Irene Ford’s hand movements as she throughout their answers jotted down notes. Whatever she wrote down revealed what she thought of their answer, how she would deliver them to the rest of Ilomar. Either hurt or help them. Dominic had no way of seeing what she was writing, as her pen and paper were out of frame, and he hated the thought that he wouldn’t find out before the public found out as well.

Her only response was ‘right’, which Dominic didn’t care for, simply because he had no way of knowing what she meant by that. Whether or not she believed their innocence that they had defended in their answers. Then she moved on the next question – instantly, as she directly addressed him and only him, Dominic’s brows furrowed. She was going to separate them in the interview, he knew that right away. His theory was proven when she asked Cadmus a direct question as well. Fucking journalists. Always looking for a way to challenge. It was indeed provocative, and Dominic felt an instant need to speak up about it, to call her out on her strategy.
But he kept himself in check. Showing any sign of anger could only confirm the stereotype of the harmful Nachon warlock. Instead, the anger boiled inside of him, worsened by the fact that he had to keep it inside. By the fact that even when playing nice, he had to be challenged.

At least it was questions, they had prepared for, even though Ford’s wording of them were more critical – but that had been expected, since she was known for her critical journalism. Dominic allowed himself to breath for a moment before answering. Not to consider what he had to say, that he already knew, but to make sure he didn’t let his anger seep through his voice.
“To be clear – the EFA isn’t against any religious viewpoint,” he said, speaking slower than he usually did, to make sure that his point came across and to avoid sounding defensive, “Several of our members and most of our refugees are religious themselves. We’re not against religious consensus either, as long as it has naturally occurred and still has room and acceptance for other viewpoints – and as long as it isn’t forced by law and discriminates the people that doesn’t fit in under that specific religious viewpoint.”

He felt good about that answer. But he didn’t feel good about answering within the rules that Ford had put upon them. Therefor, he couldn’t help but turn his head towards Cadmus, while leaning back in the chair and yet again crossing his arms: “Augustus, if there’s anything I might have missed, feel free to add your own comment.”
He didn’t say it directly, but it was implied, that he meant, that Cadmus could do so before answering Ford’s question addressed towards him. A subtle way of challenging Irene Ford himself – he couldn’t let her have all the power in this interview after all. Besides – Cadmus might have something good to add, and Dominic wasn’t going to let a journalist’s tricks keep him from sharing them.

On the other side of the screen, Irene was taking notes as the two men spoke. Cadmus watched her do so, understood why she had to, yet felt oddly insecure watching her think, not knowing what those thoughts were. Dominic too, he felt, shared the frustration, anxiety rather. But to someone who had gotten so used to always knowing how your words were received, the ‘right’, and accompanied silence, as their interviewer prepared her next questions, almost got to him. If it was not for Dom’s thoughts Cad might have tried to convince himself of how little it all mattered, perhaps even succeeding. He had an uncomfortable inkling that he would not bat an eye if he learned the world was to end on the morrow, still he liked to pretend he cared. And it worked on Dominic, too well. Knowing how much it meant to Dominic that he was here, how relieved his friend was, how important this was… How could he help, but feel like a fraud?

He did not have much time to reflect, for Irene decided to direct a question to each. In his peripheral vision, he noticed Dominic’s expression change; his frown and a suppressed anger. Well, it might be a bit unfair, but nothing they could not handle. And Dominic did well, Cadmus thought, keeping himself together, breathing before answering. This, of course, was another obvious sign of how much the EFA meant to the man. How much it would have to mean to Cadmus too. And so; he listened as Dominic clarified the group’s view on religion; a touchy subject in Ilomar, and had to admit that he handled it well. To his surprise, however, he finished by turning to him; almost defiantly. Cadmus raised a brow before raising his voice: “Thank you, Anthony, well said.” He paused for a moment, then decided to add: “Our main concern is with uncritical adoption of religious texts by the institutions of this country; including the supposedly secular ones, resulting in a common acceptance that Nachons are demons seduced by ‘thought of destruction and selfish gain.’ Whilst we can accept this as a part of Iostanity, and as a religious viewpoint, we do not support the judicial appropriation of a view, refuted by most modern states.” He had surprised himself with this speech, but did not waste his time pondering how much he seemed to care after all. Instead he turned his attention to the other question.

“Now, in regards to your other question: how should the system handle Nachon criminality, if it was to be decriminalised?” He let the question hang in the air for a second, making sure she was following his change of topic. “Irene," He began, "as an air kirsha, I expect you are familiar with the possible ways in which your powers might cause unintended harm?" This was a retorical question, of course, yet he paused in case she had any objections, and nevertheless continued: "There are multiple historical examples of air kirshas who have used their powers in harmful, criminal ways; most recently the Dorian Freeway incident. Yet, being born with air kirsha powers, or using them, are not considered criminal offences. In much the same way, what I am proposing is that Nachon powers be regarded and judged by the same standards as other warlocks; when I am talking about a decriminalisation of Nachon warlocks, this does not translate into a decriminalisation of Nachon misuse.” He concluded, and looked to Dominic for support. "Anything you want to add?"

Dominic appreciated how Cadmus in fact did have something he wanted to add to Dominic's points. He had no clue if it was something he had thought about already or if he made something up to to spite Irene's strategic questioning. It was most likely the former, judging from how clearly articulated his point was. But then again, it wouldn't surprise Dominic, if Cadmus could make such a well-formed reply up on the spot.

Cadmus went on to answering his own question and yet again Dominic nodded along to his response. He especially liked how he included Irene Ford's own status as a Kirsha Warlock; his lips twitched with a hint of a smile by the way Cadmus' started his response with asking about her powers. Damn, he was good.
When Cadmus turned to Dominic to ask if he had anything to add, the leader first shook his head but then quickly stopped himself. Instead of declining the offer, he said to Irene: "I completely agree with Augustus' points.” Feeling like they had more control over the situation again, Dominic didn't have to hold back any anger, but could answer more relaxed although still in a more practical than charismatic manner. “I think it's essential to differentiate between the existence of Nachon powers and the potential misuse of those powers. Decriminalizing Nachon warlocks doesn't mean turning a blind eye to any harmful actions they might commit. Just like with any other warlock, if a Nachon warlock were to use their powers in a criminal or harmful way, they should be held accountable."

There was a beat of silence, Irene’s eyes glued to the screen as she anticipated what happened next. She had thrown them a curveball in splitting them up, she knew that very well. It had been a provocative move and now, she wondered if it had indeed been the confirmation she needed that these people were quick to anger – as the public discourse would let you believe. Which was disappointing? But then, Anthony started speaking.“To be clear – the EFA isn’t against any religious viewpoint,” he said. That was surprising, considering that the religious institutions were very much against them. She took a note, perhaps that needed to be explored further? Then he clarified that they didn’t support the law that made Iostanity a mandatory practice within Ilomar. That was fair, it was a controversial law. Then, he addressed his partner and Irene raised a brow, the hint of a smile appearing on her lips as he defied her setup. She wasn’t sure what to think of that, but it was interesting. She didn’t have time to ponder upon it, though, because August started speaking. He was incredibly well-spoken, she noted. Had this been a political debate, he’d probably be giving some very prominent candidates a run for their money. It made Irene wonder what kind of man this supposed terrorist could possibly be – he had also been the one to politely greet her back at the very start of the interview. She almost forgot to jot down his actual answer, but quickly wrote down the words secular institutions and scripture down on her paper, along with modern states underlining the last one, intending to come back around to it.

Then, he moved on to decriminalization. She raised a brow when he addressed her directly, by her first name. Something about that seemed awfully intimate in an interview with a terrorist organization. Even most politicians would address her as “Miss Ford”, if they weren’t close like she was with Robert. But did she actually mind? It was an interesting move. "As an air kirsha, I expect you are familiar with the possible ways in which your powers might cause unintended harm?" She nodded, indicating for him to continue with his point. He cited the Dorian Freeway incident, which the CPS had done an article on not even a week prior to the death of the prince. His point was clear even before he made it: and Irene had to agree on some level. She wasn’t surprised this time, when August addressed Anthony. Anthony, who seemed somewhat more relaxed when he gave his answers, echoing his partner's point about having powers not necessarily translating into misuse. Irene nodded, making a note of their points. She clicked the top of her pen and leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs.

“Very interesting,” she said, and it was. There was a sly smile on her lips and a glint in her eye as she considered what she had just been told – and what she was going to ask next. There were plenty of ways to challenge their remarks. A true Nachon skeptic might note the large population of jailed Nachon – but as they had already criticized the religious and juridical foundation of Ilomarian law, she could guess what the rebuttal would be. One could also ask how on earth Iostanity and the thought of free Nachon’s would ever coexist. That might be an interesting question, she clicked her pin and made a note. For now, Irene was curious about August’s comment about modern states.

“I want to elaborate on what is indeed a modern state approach to this issue,” she then said, after a beat of silence. “As I am sure you already know, many of our neighboring states such as Ganthery and Nameto have dealt with the Nachon issue the very same way that our own Collective Future Coalition is proposing: compulsory medication for all Nachon citizens.” She clicked the end of her pen twice as she considered. She could mention the existence of the institutions within Ilomar that concerned themselves with Nachon minors, but their existence was controversial to say the least. She’d definitely be in trouble with her publisher if she brought that up – and with the authorities, more so than she already would be. “While in other countries such as Gamabo and Lasaint, training and monitoring is mandatory for all warlocks,” she continued. She clicked her pen once more. “So, what constitutes a modern approach? What’s your,” she paused, looking for the right words. “Manifesto, so to speak.” She then smiled. “Or, more importantly, where are you willing to compromise?”

‘very interesting’, Ford said, and she actually seemed to mean it. Now, was it interesting in a thought-provoking way or was it interesting in the same way a circus clown could be interesting? Who knew what she meant by that. Dominic was used to being the circus clown, so to him that was the most obvious option.

Her next question was the biggest yet. A broad question about what their over-all idea of a modern state approach was – their manifest. Dominic shifted uncomfortably in his seat as the term crossed her lips. Of course ‘manifesto’ was usually a neutral word, but it had been used against them before. The EFA, a dangerous terrorist gang with their malevolent manifesto.

Dominic knew that he was the one to answer her question without even having to exchange looks with Cadmus. He was the leader after all. He should be able to convey their ideals and beliefs. He gathered his thoughts and cleared his throat, as he started of his answer by saying: “First, we have to clarify our relation to the term ‘manifesto’. While we know that the term can be used neutrally or even positively, it’s often associated with extremist ideologies. And there’s nothing extreme or radical about the protection of universal rights. It should just be a fundamental aspect of a fair society.”

He let his comment sink in, having said the last two sentences with a firm and conclusive tone. After his pause, he moved on the actually answering her question:
“We advocate for a system that respects the rights of Nachon Warlocks – of all warlocks and humans as well. And we advocate for a system where Nachon Warlocks can be treated as equals. Compulsory medication or any form of forced treatment isn’t the way to do so – it completely disregards the autonomy and freedom of choice of Nachon Warlocks. Similarly, mandatory training and monitoring may lead to stigmatization and further marginalizatio. Instead, we should focus on encouraging training and education on warlock’s abilities while also promoting awareness and debunking of misconceptions.”

In this answer, the words came to him easily. This was a speech from his Spirit, something he believed wholeheartedly and without a doubt. What Thomas had taught him when Dominic had joined the EFA, and what was the whole essence of the organization – freedom for all. Energy for all.
”Of course, this isn’t a simple fix, we are aware of that,” he continued, “We are aware of the need for compromise, and we are open to discussions and finding a common ground that also will take the other citizens worries into consideration. However,” His voice turned firm again, bordering harshness, “we will not compromise on the fundamental rights and well-being of Nachon citizens.”

He eased up a bit but kept the firmness in his voice. There was something about finally being able to say this aloud to a person comfortably placed in the system, that discriminated against him and those like him, that was almost cathartic in a way where he couldn’t hold back the intensity in his delivering of their views. With this meaning everything to him, there was no other way to convey it that with all his power.  
“We don’t have all the answers or all the solutions. But we have a clear insight view of the problems regarding our country’s current system. And none of those can be fixed if we’re deemed as terrorists who won’t engage in a constructive conversation. Because that’s actually exactly what we want.” His last point had almost every word emphasized, as if each one was the final punch in a fight: “to talk about these issues.”

His speech was over and he realized how he had leaned closer and closer to the screen, caught up in his own intensity. Quickly, he leaned back, a bit discomposed, taken aback by how it had felt to get all of that off his chest. For a second there, he had forgotten what the interview was about. He had simply needed to rant to someone who was listening.
“… Which is why we appreciate the opportunity to do so now, in this interview,” he said after a moment’s silence to compose himself, his voice now calmer and more controlled. “So.. Thank you. For this opportunity”

Had it been too bold a move to address Irene Ford by her first name? Cadmus didn’t think so, since she didn’t object, but it had been a wager, and now he only hoped it had helped strengthen his point. Of course, the intimacy of a set up like this was different from a real meeting, but it would be wrong to underestimate how much people liked the sound of their own name. Most people that was. Hopefully, Irene was most people. She also seemed to agree to his point about the possible danger even of air kirshas, which was good. It was an important point, and one she had to understand if she were to understand their stance; of course, Kirsha accidents were rarely as serious as Nachon accidents. But Cadmus had his own theory about that, and it had nothing to do with Iosta, Tarron or Evil.

He was glad when Dominic agreed with him. Cad knew he was presenting points they had not discussed affront, and that of course brought with it a risk of saying something out of tow. He might think he knew both Dom and himself well, but you could never be absolutely sure you wouldn’t mess up somehow. And then there was the irony, of sitting there and listening to Dominic talking about Nachons being held responsible for their harmful actions, not knowing what that would really mean. Even if the law changed, what would that really mean? I am not saying I should not be held accountable. That wasn’t it. He might not be salvageable, but someone like Lucy? She would be able to live the life she wanted, whatever that was. Whoever she was, and he no longer knew. Had perhaps never had any right to know. Their path leads only to destruction and abomination.

Unsure what to make of Irene’s expression and her ‘very interesting,’ he was not sure he liked it. Then she asked them to elaborate on what he had meant by ‘a modern state approach.’ Well, quite frankly, he meant anything by pretending like nachons didn’t exist, like religious fanaticism, murdering and locking people in prison for nothing would solve anything. Even medication would be better. Perhaps it would be the right thing to do? If he had been caught, had been medicated then–the guilt was like an iron fist, wringing his heart. He felt slightly nauseous. Could it have been avoided? ‘Training and monitoring,’ that too would have been better. Every. Other. Solution. Anything was preferable to this. Repressing something did not make it go away.

What was their manifesto? This was Dom’s domain, and Cad turned to look at the EFA leader. The man didn’t look at him, but kept his focus on Irene, and seemed to dislike her wording, so when he started his reply by clarifying what constituted the term ‘manifesto’ it wasn’t a huge surprise. It was true that it wasn’t a neutral word. Most words associated with the EFA weren’t. Which was not, after all, deserved. When one considered how often the EFA were spoken off as the root of all evil, it was easy to forget what they were actually fighting for: 'And there’s nothing extreme or radical about the protection of universal rights.' This was the modern state approach; hopefully Irene took notice. They were only fighting for what should already be considered universal rights.

Of course he wanted respect, did he not? Who could want anything but. But this was not for him, this was for those sitting in the overcrowded bedroom down the hall, this was for the Nachon kids who the EFA could not save, this was for the innocent. It wasn’t that he wanted to be locked up somewhere and medicated; it was too late for that anyways. In fact, he did not want anything like that. The horrible distance to Irene Ford, the detachment from their interviewer… It was more than the physical distance. There was a mental bridge he could not cross, and that was frustrating. It was horrible to know so much about people, but it was also easy. You never had to doubt yourself, at least not socially. Gift or curse, it was not something he was ready to lose.

But he could not get himself to agree with Dom’s refusal of mandatory training. If there was even the tiniest chance that it might have changed something… Cad had to look away for a second. Not that there was much to look at. Rolled down curtains and some walls. Very inspiring. ‘education on warlock’s abilities’, ‘promoting awareness’, ‘debunking misconceptions.’ Could I-, it did not matter now. This wasn’t about him. It was about the EFA, the thing Dominic so fervently believed in. And there was no doubt that he did. Cadmus had never doubted Dominic’s abilities as a leader, and the way he delivered his speech left no room for reservations. People followed this man for a reason. He cared. And by: ‘we will not compromise on the fundamental rights and well-being of Nachon citizens,’ Cadmus cared too, very much.

As expected, as it was a big question, it took a moment before an answer came. Then, a voice, Anthony, cleared his throat and started by clarifying that this was indeed not an extreme ideology. Irene fought the urge not to smile at that. Indeed, human rights weren’t that extreme – however, Nachon rights were something entirely different. And whoever he was behind the screen, he was probably right to point this out. One of many rhetorical tricks Irene might use to catch someone on their word. Manifesto, it was indeed a loaded term. He was clever to catch that.

Then, after a beat of silence, he started actually answering her question. At the start of it, she took notes. Autonomy and freedom and open to discussion she wrote down, before his voice suddenly became firm. Her eyes darted back up to the screen. We will not compromise on the fundamental rights and well-being of Nachon citizens. The hints of a smile on her lips then. It was satisfying in a way, a breath of fresh air to interview someone with an actual opinion about something. Perhaps she had gotten too familiar and comfortable with politicians, with their agendas and polls. It was certainly interesting. Irene herself, she was on the fence on where she stood on the whole issue. She came from a place far from Ilomar city, where superstitions were more the rule than the official authority of the Iostan church – due to the lack of infrastructure, no doubt. As such, the view on the Nachon warlock had some slight differences, though it still wasn’t favorable, she supposed. But indeed, it made her aware of the fact that the Iostan view of warlocks wasn’t a universal truth. You didn’t need to look far for neighboring countries with a different approach either. But it was one of those unpleasant things about society one came to accept when it didn’t truly affect you directly. Like income inequality or impoverished families. Somewhere along the way, Irene noticed, she failed to take notes of the things the man was saying and simply listened. It was only when he thanked her that Irene noticed she was simply sitting there, head tilted and rested in her hand. Then, she truly smiled. It wasn’t easy to captivate her like that. She nodded in recognition.

“You’re very welcome,” she spoke then, placing the pen on the table, looking over her notes as she considered. One could push them further on their views on Iostanity. She had also noted down which way they might define themselves – but she could guess as much. Really, it left her with two choices. Agitate them further, let them slip up and give the Godia something to work with. Or leave it here and let their words speak for themselves. Irene was in trouble, though, since she couldn’t write a truly critical piece against what was essentially a plea for human rights. And part of her didn’t truly want the Godia to catch these men. They had spoken their case well. And as of now, she didn’t mind the trouble. Perhaps it was time to have this discussion. She’d surely land on her feet. She nodded then, mostly to herself. “Alright then, gentlemen,” she sat back, smiling, crossing her legs. “I think that about wraps up the questions I have for you.” She looked at the screen and wished once again that she could know who exactly these people were, who spoke so eloquently. “The article should be up on the website the day after tomorrow, granted that my publisher approves of the angle. Thank you, truly, for your cooperation.” She smiled at the camera once more. “If you have any last questions for me about the process – now is the time to ask them.”