Chapter Text
A big downside about serving a god of horrible knowledge is that sometimes said horrible knowledge was dropped directly into your mind, ruining a perfectly good day. After nearly 200 years, Jonah Magnus, or as he was currently known, Elias Bouchard, had learned to deal with it. But occasionally, rarely, he was still surprised and disgruntled from it. Today was one of those days.
The Archivist is dead.
Thankful for the privacy of his office, he let his normal mask of banality drop and frowned. That was... unexpected. He was sure that Jonathan Sims was a gift from the Web, showing their approval for his plan of a grand ritual. But if he died then either he wasn't from them or what they wanted was something else. The Mother of Puppets didn't just fail.
He reached out mentally to see if he could Know anything more but was only met with the faint pressurepain that indicated he was pushing his abilities to his own limits. He pulled back with a frustrated sigh. He supposed it really didn't matter how or why Jonathan had died, it had happened and now he needed to change his plans.
He had survived this long by being adaptable and he would figure out a solution to this hiccup.
Leaning forward, he opened his email and started to compose a polite but firm request to each of the archival assistants to come to a meeting in his office tomorrow morning.
He sat back, considering his options as he kept an "eye" on when the emails were received and if he needed to add further motivation to comply.
The biggest problem was he no longer had an Archivist to mold and mark for his ritual. Jon had been beyond perfect, a natural fit for Beholding. And between his unending curiosity driving him into obsession without care for his own well being and the Web already marking him? Well, it would be hard to find a replacement. But not impossible.
His attention was diverted as felt the nudge of Knowledge that his email was being read. He Looked through one of the many small eyes he had carved on stray shelves of the archives finding Martin Blackwood staring at his phone, his brow creased.
He watched as he typed out a reply and considered him carefully. He wouldn't be the worse Archivist. He was currently the assistant who read and recorded the most statements, showing a remarkable, for him, resilience to their effects. It wouldn't take much to push him to read more, feed the Eye more, and develop a reliance upon them. It was also worth noting that he had two Marks already, curtesy of the Corruption and the Spiral. And between the two volatile fledgling Avatars in close proximity and the Unknowing approaching, he could be almost half way Marked with barely a finger needing to be raised.
With barely a thought he shifted his perspective to look out of Martin's own eyes, reading as he hesitantly typed and then proceeded erase attempted inquiry.
What is this a
Is something wro
Will Jon be ther
Elias blinked, viewing his own office once more, and shuddered from the residual emotions from Martin. That was the problem with him. He was always so concerned for others. He might be able to work around it, even use it to his advantage but his, ugh, affection for Jon reached unprecedented levels. For almost two months, almost since the moment Jon had been kidnapped, he had been hounding Elias for answers on Jon's whereabouts. That need for answers would be a good quality for an Archivist but he was almost certain that finding out Jon was dead would break him.
No, Martin wouldn't be a good choice.
A soft chime from his computer drew his attention. With a few clicks he opened his email and saw he had two new replies. He gave a cursory glance at the most recent one, finding that apparently Martin had gotten over his indecisiveness. He didn't bother to reading the attempt to get more information before dismissing it from his inbox and opening the first reply. It must have arrived while he was distracted Watching Martin. With no introduction or signature it just read:
Okay.
Ah, Basira. Always straight to the point. Despite her employment being more of a hostage situation to leash her Hunt-crazed partner, she had adjusted quite well. She had natural curiosity that was flourishing under Beholding's gaze. If he was looking for a traditional Archivist, she would be a good fit; her tendency toward passiveness meshed well with the Eye's quality of watching rather than acting.
However he was not looking for a traditional Archivist. He needed one who would be so deeply marked by each Fear that they could call them all into this world. Despite her working as a sectioned police officer and encountering a few true events throughout the years, the fear had never been strong enough to leave a lasting Mark.
Speaking of Marks, Elias Looked for any eyes near the last two assistants. He was only able to find one in the form of a decorative painted bird near Melanie. Although she hadn't responded to his email, he was reassured to find her sharpening a knife, movements jerky and her face twisted in barely repressed rage. She wouldn't miss this opportunity to try once again to kill him. He had time and time again distracted her and prevented her attempts but the game was becoming boring and bothersome. He would be sure to put a firm end to it tomorrow.
Perhaps once Melanie would have been a good Archivist. Her show may have been a bit slapdash but it had shown promise. However, in her attempts to find the truth, she had run into a creature of the Slaughter and it's hooks had sunken deep into her. He was unsure if the connection could be severed. But even if he set in motion an attempt to do so, and she survived, he knew her rage at him wouldn't dissipate that easily. If she Became the Archivist eventually she would be strong enough to survive in the case of his untimely demise. And if she knew that she wouldn't hesitate to fulfil her promise to kill him, even if it cost other's lives. Which was the exact opposite of what he desired.
Looking one last time, he failed to find any eyes he could view out of near Tim. He either was in the tunnels under the Institute, where Elias was unable to See or he was staking out another potential Stranger stronghold. He had developed quite the vendetta after learning of the lost of Sasha, with little care for his own safety. It was why he didn't even consider Tim for the position, despite him having even more Marks than any of the others at this time. He was, plainly put, suicidal. It would do no good to get a new Archivist only for them to die because they couldn't handle the loss those near them.
Elias shook his head as he pulled back and started working idly on payroll sheets. This was why he was careful not to form any connections with others he couldn't bare to abandon. It was foolish. Loved ones just held a person back from reaching their greatest potential, could be easily used to manipulate and blackmail, and, in the case of their death, could break one's will. The downsides were so clearly splayed out with perfect examples in the form of the archival assistants.
So what to do then, since none of the current assistants would be viable options for the next Archivist? His computer chimed once again and he found Tim had responded finally.
Fine, if you insist.
Fuck you,
Tim
As he replied back with a simple "I do insist" and a gentle reprimand for professional language, he came to the obvious conclusion. He would need to get someone outside of the archives to be the Archivist. Whether that was someone within the rest of the Institute or not, he could figure out later. First he had to figure out what to do with the current batch of assistants.
They would be sure to inform any incoming employee of the truth of the position, which posed a problem. Ignorance and having to learn hands on was the best way for an Archivist to grow in strength. Even if whomever he chose initially didn't believe the claims of the others, they would likely confront him. And he would rather not lie, both because the nature of Beholding made it difficult to do so and because he wanted an Archivist who trusted him, even as he lead them down the path of losing their humanity. If he lied directly about something as inevitable to come out as the Fears and what the job turned one into, that trust would be ruined.
No, the assistants would cause too many difficulties for his plans. He would need to start completely fresh with a new archival crew entirely.
That brought him to how he should handle the current ones. He could, in theory, simply fire them and cut their connection to the Eye. There wouldn't even be a concern about them warning their future replacements. It would barely take anything to send them away, funding a move to a distant country, and blackmail them into keeping their silence and distance. But the Eye was greedy. Even thinking about losing them in that way made the connection he had with it start to burn. He didn't suffer from the lost of the previous archival assistant, one Eric Delano, due to not knowing before it occurred, but planning it was a different story entirely. And no one had ever claimed he didn't serve his god faithfully.
And his last pressing issue he needed to address:
The Unknowing still needed to be stopped. Although Gertrude had proved without a doubt his suspicions that no singular ritual could succeed, he didn't want to risk any Stranger gaining any power, even with a failed completion. After all, his own immortality, as flawed as it was, came from the collapse of his first attempt of the Watcher's Crown.
For both of these problems, his belief in the simplest solution being often the best option would work well. Stopping a ritual could very easily become deadly, especially to the unexperienced. Gertrude had also proved that, time and time again.
Perhaps, if he was very lucky, during the search and stopping of the Unknowing these problematic loose ends would be taken care of without him needing to lift a single finger. Elias allowed himself to finally smile. Things would all work out. He would make sure of it.