Chronicles of Absolution: Trial and Reckoning

Chapter 1

Then

… "I didn't always operate within the law…"

… "Always the generous soul, Seer."

"Don't call me that or I'll call you by your title."

"You wouldn't dare," Angela narrowed her eyes as they started to become glowing orbs.

The man before her reacted similarly with his eyes starting to glow like hers, "We can test that. I can tell you've been itching for a fight."

… Brendan, the Seer, looked at his friend curiously. He was impressed that in all her years of living and since he first met her, she managed to control her anger. He knew she was a reluctant soldier for the Centurion but she did the jobs she was given and without much complaint. He knew that she wouldn't take it well when he told her that the Council didn't want her for this job and he told them that. At least they were willing to compromise…

… he knew that she toed the line with it because of another promise she had made and reluctantly. The vision had been clear about Angela and he knew he should let it be but he couldn't…

… "I once said that when people find out things about me, I am either still a fellow hunter or become the hunted…"

… . A fragile thing the memory is. I wonder how many you have that will make themselves known."

… You do have the choice to tell them but be aware that such revelations always have consequences that are not always foreseen…

… You've spent nearly half a millennia fighting and this is the first time you've jumped head first into risking so much for a pair of humans and one of them nearly tried to kill you…

… They wouldn't go by choice. Grace is the leader of a sub-sect to the order called the Centurion. They are, and I kid you not, called the order of the Phoenix…

… "I'm old enough. The Order sent me and I have orders to kill any threat though I wouldn't mind a vamp every now and then for the fun of it."

"The Order?" It was rhetorical but necessary for Angela to try and diffuse the situation. "What is your name?"

"Isabella Rivain and the Centurion sent me."

… "I admit it is a bit of a letdown to hear that you think that there is no chance but there is faith and hope."

"Faith in choice?"

"Of course. Even if the destination is written, the journey is a brave new world."

… On the screen was someone who looked like he was one of those suave, casual douchebags who were worth money with short dark hair styled like Dean's. The guy looked at him and said, "Well, well, well, I certainly didn't expect this. Hello Sam. Nice to finally meet you."

… "Then the Centurion is full of dicks," Dean affirmed as he finished his coffee.

"Most of them are but I trust Brendan's judgment on this one," Angela replied with a slight smile. "Trusted him with everything else; he was the one that convinced me to join when he found me working solo. London, I think."

… "Like you know. You are only here on sufferance." Isabella didn't look at Angela but continued to look away. It hid the fact that she knew that the woman was still staring at her and she was beginning to feel like she was under scrutiny from a parent. "They say that you are a disgrace."

"That is an opinion and from douchebags who have never traversed further than the Main Hall of HQ of the order," Angela countered, not at all worried that she was giving the mutual feeling she had for the order. She took a moment to notice the posture of the girl.

"An opinion in of itself."

"Hmm. Then I guess all anyone says is an opinion."

… "'As darkness swarms upon this land with the storm on its heels, we make our stand and doth our fate be sealed. To stand against the darkening tide, we give our life, honor and pride. To protect the innocent and mete out justice, until it is our time to rest. Fighters fight until the end and warriors at last we stand.'"

… The order has many resources and they get interested in hunters outside the order. Wouldn't surprise me if one of your friends was one of the order's scouts…

… "The Centurion has done its duty for centuries as the Seer said they would. However the more finer points of the Old Religion evade their grasp such as the nature of champions."

… I was asked by the Centurion to train others since they are one of the groups that defend humans…

… For the most part, anything that the Centurion needed done was completed by one of the Champions or their descendants from the wars ages ago…

… "The Apocalypse is a problem," Akira replied respectfully but there was the slightest hint of sarcasm. "As I understand it, the order is doing what it can along with the Hunters to protect the innocent."

… Personally he thought that they could do this without the help of the bitch. He had heard about her and witnessed one altercation between her and one of the council members. The blatant disrespect was enough to make the most liberal of the nobles cringe. And yet the council kept her on until she said that she quit and stated that they leave her alone…

… "Oh she knows the meaning of the word. And far better than any of us and maybe the council."

… They arrived at the Manor and Sam could see why Angela would have to be bound in chains or, God forbid, dead to set foot in there. The Manor looked very much like the houses you saw out of old time horror films and Dean verbalized that they set foot into Wayne Manor. Like Roslyn Academy, there were a lot of artifacts and Sam was certain that a few of them definitely were deadly and some looked like opulent jewelry or pieces of armor. It definitely was like Wayne Manor…

… There were other members there that looked at him and Dean like they were second class citizens or not even that. During those moments Akira took the lead much like Angela would. It was then that Sam and Dean started to see the dynamics between the various members and there seemed to be an elitist attitude; like what he and Dean did weren't enough or within what had been established eons before they were born. He wondered if it was anything like court intrigue of the old monarchs of Europe or something…

… It was made clear that what Angela said about being there on sufferance was only making light of it. One of the council made it clear that she was a rogue with a blatant disregard for the tenets of the Centurion having compromised countless missions for one life instead of remembering the priority. It cemented their feelings that they were dicks like the angels…

… The 'battle' carried on with punches and kicks that were blocked and returned. The whole time, neither party broke eye contact with each other. She stared at Sam and felt the beginnings of a flush that had nothing to do with the sparring session. She wasn't going to give in and returned the stare, unaware that her gaze was having the same effect on Sam as it was her… until they locked arms and stood toe to toe. What happened next…

… It was easy to be mesmerized by her footwork and how fluid the motions were…

… It was not a good enough grip since they both fell to the ground with Sam landing on top of Angela. He then managed to pin her down. Both were breathing heavily and Sam managed to asked, "Surrender?"

"Never but I may get you back later."

Sam was also reminded of that time in New Mexico and it stirred up some emotions he wasn't sure of…

… To be good in anything requires balance. When you have balance, life returns to focus…

… "A noble thing. But you are troubled. Troubled by the choices you have made and the ones you have yet to make," the Sphinx replied as she continued to circle around Angela. She made a slight humming sound in her throat before continuing, "Into the chaos you fight and the world shifts at your feet. The smallest ripples trickle back to the source."

"Well nothing I haven't heard before."

The Sphinx made a slight sound. "Words you've heard… committed to memory… You hear but don't listen. The answers are found in front of you."

… "So much fire. The sacred fire burns strong in you but it is stronger than it has been previously."

… "If you break me, I do not stop working. If you touch me, I may be snared. If you lose me, nothing will matter."

… A comfortable silence passed over them as they sat there drinking the beer. At one point, Angela gave in and shifted to lean against Sam, resting her head on his shoulder. Sam for his part adjusted his grip on her hand and held it…

… She had to make a choice and she was going to have to make it soon…

Now

The room was deathly quiet except for the slight crackle of fire from the lanterns and torches. It created a dimmed effect but that didn't really matter. There wasn't that much to see in the room. The only thing a person could do was sit in there and twiddle their thumbs and go mad. Or you could try counting the hours on the wall but with no windows except for the one with the door and even then you weren't sure.

It was long and torturous and you could lose all sense of time there. It gave definition to the meaning of solitary confinement and it was no wonder that it was effective in keeping control of your more volatile prisoners. It's why they used it in prison for infractions deemed serious. It could drive you mad but for the occupant of the room, there were different ways of coping.

The occupant sat in the center of the room with their legs crossed in a meditative position. The occupant had been in there since they had been placed there so there was no telling how long they were in there but time had no meaning when you were meditating. It was easier than contemplating the situation that existed.

The dim light was enough to allow for sleep if necessary since these kinds of things have been known for taking even days, weeks at a time. So again time could be irrelevant and time had been lost before. It was just a matter of keeping in perspective of what was going on in the here and now. So it was just a matter of sitting and waiting and you could get a cold and sore but from the stone floor.

The sound at the door made the occupant tilt their head slightly but their eyes were still closed. The sounds on the other side of the door were different from before. This was confirmed when there was the clatter of a key being worked into the lock and the tumblers moving. The occupant didn't stir since the door opening could mean many things.

"It's time."

The occupant opened their eyes and looked at the one at the door. Slowly and with a gentle sigh they stood up in a graceful motion that would have made the corps de ballet proud if they were to unfurl as swans. The occupant looked at the guard holding the door open before walking over to where a black suit jacket with golden brown embroidery on the sleeves was draped on the chair and picked it up. With a calm expression the jacket was put on and the occupant walked up to the guard at the door.

"Go on."

The occupant gave a look at the guard before stepping to the one that was waiting. All this pomp and circumstance was more of a formality but in the past things had been different and given the way things were… The occupant was quiet as the shackles were put on. They were of iron and interwoven silver; practically noneffective but there other measures and they laid within the sigils that had been etched into the bands of the shackles. It was effective, not that anything was going to be tried.

The guard checked once they were on to make sure that they were secure. As a courtesy, the guard pulled out the suit jacket sleeve so it wasn't wrinkled from the shackles. The occupant gave a nod of thanks once the sleeves were fixed.

"Let's go."

The second guard gave a look of sympathy as he took his place beside the occupant, now prisoner. The guard who opened the door joined them and said, "Come on."

The procession started as the trio left the room that contained the room. The guards took the lead as they escorted the prisoner down the hall they entered. The pace was a normal gait and the prisoner wasn't hindered by leg shackles of any sort and the goal was to make it seem as normal as possible. It was a lie of sorts but it did help in preparing for what was going to happen at the end of the hall where there was another door.

The prisoner kept a calm expression and allowed the walk to get the stiffness out from sitting too long and to think about what was coming up. After the last few days, what lay beyond, this, it was more like a relief that it was the end. It was another ordeal that was coming to an end and then focus could be shifted to another problem.

The door was guarded by two more guards. They looked stern but the moment they saw the prisoner, they stood at respectful attention and shot looks of sympathy and respect at the prisoner. They addressed the head guard with the proper amount of respect but more was given to the prisoner.

The prisoner glanced at the guards and gave a slight nod of acknowledgment but nothing more. This had to be routine and no waves. There was plenty once they went beyond the door. The two guards at the door, opened it and waited for the trio to walk through. The prisoner took a breath and followed the lead guard through the door.

There were people waiting. Some were waiting for a hearing. Others were waiting for other business and some were there to see what was going to happen. It was typical to have nosy busybodies around for something like this. It was all irrelevant to the prisoner as they followed the escort through the first room and down the hall. There was still a few places to go through; it was all designed to be a spectacle.

The prisoner looked ahead but could hear the hushed whispers from the crowds they passed. Some were murmurs and others were near to loud gasps of indignation or glee. The pool was rife with both sides of the spectrum and the extremes were heavily present. This had definitely brought a lot of attention and it was attention that the prisoner didn't care for all that much.

There were a few people that the prisoner recognized and it was best not to look at them. Sometimes it was best not to show emotion and there was a small amount of shame that the prisoner felt. After all these were people that were actually liked and the prisoner got along when on a job as some point in the recent past or the distant one. It was like a pinprick through the heart and the prisoner did what they could to keep a brave front. It was the only way to get through this long walk down to the final destination.

The whispers, both murmured and heated, continued as they approached a pair of double doors. They were ornate and gilded wood. That was the end of the line; where everything would come down to. The prisoner looked at it with a look like it was final.

"Hail to the General."

The prisoner turned towards the direction the voice came from. It was a group of warriors and some were Champions from tournaments past. The prisoner's eyes widened slightly but otherwise the expression was stoic as the group all made a respectful salute. They were all looking at the prisoner with a look of solidarity.

"We stand with you," a youthful warrior said as she approached the prisoner and grabbed the shackled hands.

"Back away from the prisoner," the guard warned.

"We stand with the General," the girl replied and stood defiantly. She was joined with others who were lining up and it looked like it was going to start something.

"Everyone back down now," the lead guard was saying. He withdrew his stick to indicate that he meant business.

The prisoner noticed the other guards coming in and stepped forward and raised their hands in a placating gesture. Then the prisoner approached the one who touched their hands and looked at the others. The firm gaze was enough to quiet them down as the prisoner looked over the youthful faces to the more experienced ones.

The guards were relieved as they approached. The one who slapped on the shackles put a hand on the prisoner's elbow and tugged to get a move on. The lead guard looked at the group and joined them and together they made their way back towards the gilded doors where two more guards came to opened them up.

The room was filled with the witnesses that had been called as well as the interested parties. They were all sitting in the seats that they had been occupying the last couple of days. There were a couple of seats empty but those would be filled before the proceedings started now that the prisoner was here. It became deathly quiet the moment the prisoner entered the room and was loud enough to let the doors close with a decisive click.

No one looked at the prisoner except for the one in the first row for witnesses and spectators. His expression was a cross between worry and being pissed off and frustrated that he couldn't do anything about it. He made a slight sound but no words as the prisoner was marched up to where the prisoner's arbiter was sitting.

The prisoner stopped by the arbiter's table and turned slightly to give a look at their representative. The arbiter stood up and asked, "Are you okay?"

The prisoner said nothing but gave a look. The brows furrowed slightly into a pensive expression and was quickly gone. With shackled hands, the prisoner reached out and grasped the arbiter's hands and gave a gentle squeeze. It was more than enough to say that things would be okay and a lot of other things that hadn't been said.

The arbiter felt his throat convulse as he reluctantly let go as the guards led the prisoner to the podium where the prisoner had taken their seat from the beginning. The prisoner didn't look back but forward even though there was the overwhelming urge to look back but that wasn't an option at the moment.

The room was quiet except for the minimal shuffle of feet. The prisoner looked ahead at the man bench. Two of the councilors were there waiting. They looked impersonal and that was how it was supposed to be. The prisoner watched them since they were all waiting for the head councilor and then the proceedings would start. It was all part of making the prisoner sweat; tactics that pretty much the prisoner was well aware of.

The prisoner looked down at the shackles and at the sigils. By then the gong sounded and the last of the spectators that had their business there filtered in. The prisoner ignored them as they stared ahead to wait, their fingers rubbing the cuffs of the shackles. The prisoner slowly stood up as the call to order was given and put their hands on the railing.

The head councilor came in and looked at the crowd that had gathered with an impervious look. The prisoner looked at him with an impassive expression and their gaze shifted to the other two councilors that were sitting there. The prisoner straightened up even more like they were back on the front lines and directing troops. Too many years in service and old habits were hard to break and they had some modicum of pride.

"This tribunal is now in session."

The prisoner merely blinked and looked at the councilors. It was nonconsequential but the prisoner pulled on the cuffs to the suit jacket to do a little bit of last minute straightening. Then they straightened up.

The head councilor looked at the crowd and then at the prisoner before saying, "Upon being found guilty of murder of the ambassador, this tribunal has made it's decision…"

The room erupted in protests. Some were saying that the verdict was bogus. The prisoner said nothing but stared straight ahead while the head councilor called for order.

It took some time but the crowd quieted. Mostly they were following the prisoner's lead. They looked at the prisoner and settled down. The head councilor looked at the audience and then at the prisoner and bellowed out, clearly frustrated, "As I was saying, General, upon being found guilty of murder of the Consul, this tribunal sentences you, General Angela de Medici to death by hanging."

Angela looked at the head councilor as the room erupted in an uproar. It was even heard from beyond the room. She didn't move but merely stared at the councilors. There was no expression on her face.

A/N: Here we are folks on another episode of Chronicles and... What the hell? Angie's on trial? There has to be a mistake. Keep watching for more Trial and Reckoning...