|Durandiel the Ghost|
|Position||Judge, Ghost Division 003|
Durandiel the Ghost
- Spelled with a letter u in book 10, Reaper. Durandiel, not Darandiel, despite other non-canonical online spellings elsewhere.
- Durandiel is an Abidan Judge, Division 003
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Each Judge is an individual, with character or personality strengths and weaknesses. Durandiel the Ghost seems to be more low-key, more collaborative, and more likable than some. Of all the Judges, the Spider and the Fox appear to be most self-interested:
When all the Judges could hear her, Suriel spoke. “Makiel is in recovery. We faced the Mad King and were defeated.” She felt the reactions of the various Judges as though they were her own. Gadrael, the Titan, was astonished that his sponsor could have failed. Razael, the Wolf, wanted to test her own sword against the Vroshir. Zerachiel, the Fox, immediately ran to an Iteration farther away from the Mad King. “By Makiel’s authorization and my own, I send the following command. All Judges, do not engage the Mad King. Abandon any world you cannot hold, and fortify those you can. The Vroshir will finish their raid, and many will die, but soon enough they will leave. We will retreat, and endure, and rebuild.” The Spider and the Fox immediately sent their agreement. They prioritized their own lives and those of the Abidan above all else. The Titan was next. Any world he was in would be well-fortified indeed, and he would follow any instruction of Makiel’s. The Ghost sent no reply, but Suriel took that as agreement. The Wolf was the last to agree, frustrated that she couldn’t vent her frustrations on the enemy, but she satisfied herself with the knowledge that they would strike back someday. The Hound and the Phoenix already agreed, so the Court of Seven was in accord. (Bloodline ch 20)
Just as the other Judges supervise the life and health of a world, someone must oversee the process of universal death and rebirth. The Ghosts watch over the broken fragments of worlds, guiding the development of new Iterations and protecting them from malign influence during the vulnerable cycle of destruction and creation.
As Hounds tap into the power of Fate and Titans into the power of protection, Ghosts manipulate the force that binds existence to the Way: conscious will. This is an esoteric power that, depending on the situation, can be either overwhelmingly powerful or totally useless.
Durandiel is rarely seen in Sanctum, the headquarters of the Abidan. She and her Ghosts spend most of their time beyond the Iterations, shepherding the birth of new worlds and defending old ones from the chaos of the void.
Durandiel doesn’t wear the typical white Abidan armor, but a dull gray dress that fades into smoke. She carries a staff. Her hair is often in her eyes.
“You look different,” a woman in ghostly gray said in a dreamlike voice. She was the only one not wearing smooth armor, and she vaguely gestured to him. “It suits you.” “Thank you, Durandiel. You see? At least one of you is friendly.” (Reaper, ch 26)
The Ghost blew hair away from her face, and Suriel realized for the first time the woman was standing at her side. Durandiel was the only one of the Seven not wearing armor, instead wearing a dull gray dress that hazed into smoke and carrying a tall staff. “We’re all going to die,” the Ghost said.
Makiel’s Presence, a floating purple eye, answered her. [We have not seen our deaths.]
“I didn’t mean here,” Durandiel sighed. “I just thought it was worth contemplating our own mortality.” (Reaper, ch 14)
Durandiel’s abilities are depicted fighting Vroshir in Reaper, book 10:
Durandiel, the Ghost, faded in and out of visibility. She strode through a twisted reality that a Class Two Fiend tried to manifest, a warped world of distorted gravity and fleshy trees. “No,” the Ghost said, and the half-formed reality collapsed. One Silverlord controlled diamond chains with each link the size of a star, forged from the energy of a foreign world and refined in Fathom’s own system. The chain crashed like a train through a series of inhabited planets, only to slam to a halt on the end of Durandiel’s hand. “Wrong,” the Ghost said. The diamond chain popped like a bubble, leaving the debris of the planets it had destroyed to drift through space. A four-armed woman gathered up the collateral damage from one of the Mad King’s attacks, spooling up spatial cracks like thread, and wove them into text that touched something deep inside the world of Fathom. Time froze around her. In that space beyond time, she began a subtle but far-reaching working, redefining the mechanisms of Iteration One-one-nine. Durandiel rose up from behind the four-armed Vroshir and watched. “Not bad,” the Ghost said. The woman spun around, her backhand trailing energy that could annihilate entire populations, but it was all a function of will and energy, so it faded to nothing before the authority of the Ghost. The slap landed normally on Durandiel’s cheek. “Ow.” The Vroshir flinched and tried to run, but space was still sealed. The Ghost grabbed her by the collar. “Why don’t you come work for me?” She folded the four-armed woman like a piece of paper, but this paper squirmed and resisted, so Durandiel let it unfold slightly and peeked inside. “It’s that or execution,” she pointed out. The woman stopped resisting, and the Ghost folded her up and slipped her inside a pocket. The zone of frozen time vanished as she strode after other rule-breakers. (Reaper ch 21)