The Trial: Journey's End

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 19: Plots

...Throne room of the Ard Rhi of the Minotaur Kingdom...

"Did... she threaten to wipe us out? Did that... human... threaten to wipe us out?!" General Mu'Alexius raged and slammed his fist against the wall of stone.

Mu'Akrotiri remained calm and quiet as the larger minotaur raged in fury, a feeling of relief swelled in his breast that the Ard Rhi and Ard Rhigan had kept their collective cool when the events of the trial made their way back to the castle.

"I don't believe so. I believe that was a warning, not a threat, it only makes sense, after all, she lives in the west, not the east, and she spoke of salvation coming from her direction. More to the point, I've met her. I don't believe she would threaten us over what is happening now." Mu'Akrotiri reasoned.

"You are sure?" The Ard Rhigan asked with trepidation in her voice, she wasn't looking at them, the prince and princess were scuffling a few feet away from the throne, only a year apart, they were only four and three respectively, and already showing that they took after both their parents. She saw her passion in her daughter, Princess Mu'Lin, and her husband's steady hand in Prince Mu'fon.

Akrotiri huffed in silence for a few uncomfortable minutes as he scratched the base of his mouth in thought. "I say yes. She has no reason to hate us. From what we've been hearing, she treats even our prisoners and guards with respect, more interested in converting our people than anything else. I wonder if..."

He trailed off.

"She could be an incarnation of Kiril's Angel." The Ard Rhi said in a solemn voice.

"In the body of a human? When has that ever happened?" The general replied scornfully and slammed a fist into his open hand. "No, I say we should treat this like the threat it is, send someone to give her a sound thrashing and teach the human not to reach too far beyond herself." General Mu'Alexius ground his teeth as he spoke, and his eyes went red with the beginnings of his berserker rage. He drew it back, but his words carried weight beyond his temper.

"If she really is Kiril's Angel... then even one of our champions couldn't defeat her, no matter what body holds the soul." The Ard Rhi added in a more reasonable tone.

"I was in the audience." Mu'Akrotiri replied calmly, "She drew on the force of the divine, or I'm a Kiril damned goblin. Any champion we sent, would only be turned into muck, and all the best champions are on the border anyway, dealing with the occasional raiders from the Devor Empire. If she wins, we've lost valuable, precious weapons. If she loses, we've gained nothing except maybe an enemy of her lord."

The Ard Rhi's eyes brightened. "What if... that made her lord an ally?"

"Husband...?" The Ard Rhigan asked, "You can't be thinking what I think you're thinking."

"I am." He said with great tranquility, and his advisors stared at him in eager expectation.

The Ard Rhi held his hands to either side of him as if weighing his options as he began to speak in the low, wise voice they'd become accustomed to. "She was to be housed in Kirakira prison for the convenience of the trial, but... after what happened, it will offer some comfort for her to be stationed... far away from it. We have gotten a number of petitions to have her moved, isolated. I propose that we move her to the farthest east of our Kingdom, there's an outpost there that is persistently threatened with being overrun. It has a small prison facility where we throw our Penitent corps. Toss her in that, make the orders open to interpretation, and the incompetent dolt may even decide to throw her into the fight with the rest of them. If she 'is' Kiril's Angel... she will exact a brutal toll on Devor raiders. If she is 'not' Kiril's Angel, then she dies and it is all their fault. No doubt the Sorcerer King would happily help us to avenge his daughter. And even if she does die, if she is as fierce as you think she is, Mu'Akrotiri, then she may yet save many of our people's lives."

Mu'Alexius felt his fingers tense. "She might defend herself and inflict some casualties, but while I've heard the stories of her... excesses, it all seems highly exaggerated. A squad of ten who lose to five will tell the story as if they faced five hundred, an army of thirty thousand will speak of its defeat by an equal number, as if they faced an army of a hundred thousand. Warriors of all kinds will exaggerate to save their reputations and their pride. She may be mighty for a human facing humans, or even some underfed criminals. But what can something so small do against beastmen?"

He gritted his teeth in frustration as he asked the question, and then asked another, "Even if she could... why should she? We're the ones putting her on trial."

The Ard Rhi tapped his meaty fingers on the armrest of his throne and looked over to where his children scuffled still. "They play, because they are children, they don't need to be taught to do it, it is part of their nature. A fish will swim because it is a fish, even if you take it from the river and put it in a tank. A warrior will fight because they are a warrior, even if they are in a foreign land. If she truly is Kiril's Angel, we won't have to ask her, we just need to stay out of the way while she does what she would do naturally."

...Forton...

When the population watching the trial heard the things the former worker at the Breaker Academy in Wheaton speak, there were thousands of bloody lips as elves, and even some humans, bit their lips in barely suppressed rage. But he became a sideshow as the 'view' focused on the unexpected response of the Pope. The desperate muffles, the attempt at shutting her ears with her chained hands that couldn't spread far enough to close off hearing from both ears at once.

Her desperation was palpable, even as the demonic woman teased ever more details and 'examples' out of the human witness.

With their heads craned up in the great open square at the images and sounds being carried by the complex web of magic, there was not an ear that did not catch the crashing sound of her smashing her head on the table to try to drown out everything she was forced to relive behind her hidden eyes.

When the force hit the pavilion and her yowling rage was on full monstrous display threatening to crush those around her as she turned her hate and wrath on the witness, the city was in quiet awe. The massive projected views showed the depth of rage in the red points that danced in the infinite dark that were her eyes.

When Vanysa fell and cracked her knees and howled at the sudden pain, still nobody within the city who saw the scene, even blinked. Nobody made a sound, until the wrath was focused to a point, and before the eyes of the city, the breaker was turned to a puddle of mangled blood, bone, and flesh.

Aorli watched it from her balcony, and began to dance for joy as the breaker died, only to stop cold when the pope held out her hands and foretold doom and deliverance, before agony in her head overwhelmed the obvious pain in the parts of her body that had already been shredded, and she fell into what must have been a blessed unconsciousness.

The noise of the city hit her like a thunderclap out of a clear sky. 'OK, they're going to want answers... and they're not the only ones.' Aorli thought grimly. 'I think I need to reach out to my sister, no doubt she'll be asking questions of her own.'

...Crescent Lake...

Bertra hung her head in shame as she listened to the scene play out, unable to look up to watch. Her face was visibly reflected back at her in the silver platter on the table in front of her, her long ears impossible not to notice. She reached up and touched them. 'My humanity... seems so far away right now... if that man up there could do it... he'd do that to me too. I'm an elf now... he's talking about how he'd break 'me', not some 'other' nameless unfortunate. It's like if poison were given a body and a voice to speak. How could I have ever defended 'that'?' She wondered with a sense of disgust roiling in the pit of her stomach.

But when the noise started from the Pope's table, then she looked up. When the breaker died, and Neia had lost consciousness, and chaos gripped the pavilion, all she could feel was a mix of shame, disgust, and relief. It left her distracted in the extreme, so much so that she missed the presence of the person near her until he placed his arm on her shoulder.

"You alright?" The voice asked sympathetically.

She looked up to the source of the sound, and found herself looking at a man of moderate build, with one ear cut and the other intact, he had the angular face of his race, but unusually enough, he had his blonde hair cropped short. His voice was like that of a lute, and his eyes had a pleasant golden hue that sparkled when the sun caught his face.

"Oh... sorry, yes. It was just... hearing all that was a bit much, seeing all that was... worse, I suppose." Bertra responded humbly.

"May I join you?" He asked, and she numbly gestured to the seat across from her.

As he sat, he spoke, "I understand." He pointed to the still mutilated left ear. He had a gentle voice, and looked at her with such abiding sympathy that she wondered what stories were held between the imperfect and the perfect ears on his head.

'No... you don't.' She thought numbly, but outwardly she said, "He got what was coming to him."

"Yes, he did." The elven male said emphatically.

"I'm Bertra." She said politely.

"Lovien, Lovien of house Alu." He said in his musical voice, and held his hand out to her.

Bertra hesitated, but took it after a moment and then withdrew it again after the brief greeting.

"Can I offer you some of my tea?" Betra asked as the awkward silence began, and waved her hand over the tray, "They gave me two cups for some reason."

Lovien smiled charmingly, "They always do that here, the owners who serve this area like to encourage people to keep each other company."

"It's a nice practice." Bertra smiled weakly, "But I'm not much for good company right now, stay seated at your own risk."

Lovien shook his head, "Maybe not, but who is, after that? Honestly... it is still unreal to me to have a 'human' champion. Not something I imagined eighty years ago. Not something I imagined even eight years ago, for that matter."

Bertra looked at the mutilated left ear without meaning to, "I'd imagine not. But after that display, I wonder if she won't be lost to... us." She snapped her head away when he touched the damaged ear.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to stare." She looked down and hastily poured the tea and laid the cup in front of him.

"It's alright, most heal everything, I chose to do only part, so I wouldn't forget someone. They didn't get out like I did." Lovien remarked as he took the tea from in front of him.

After he took a sip, he added, "I don't know about 'her' though. Killing him might not have helped her cause but... after everything that was said, who knows? Nobody is going to sympathize with that witness. If enough stories go around about the things she saw, maybe she'll draw enough sympathy to be released, or at least enough that my savior will not be put to death."

"Your savior?" Bertra asked, "Were you one of her rescues then?"

He gave a grim and bitter smile. "One of the farms around Wheaton. I never got to tell her thank you, never got to speak with her, she'd never recognize me if she saw me but... I'll never forget that day. The orcs showed up, brought me to her army, and I was free, along with the rest of us."

"You know... I run the bookshop around the corner from here, I've been taking the stories of former slaves and sending them out for distribution... if these stories become widespread, it may influence her fate as people see the ways of the Theocracy for what they were... wrong." Bertra suggested tentatively.

Lovien pursed his lips, "I have no talent for writing."

"Then let me help you. Come by my store this evening if you have time, and I'll get you started." Bertra proposed, "I'll even throw in some evening tea if you're tired."

The corners of Lovien's lips turned up slightly. "I'll take you up on that, if there's a chance it will help, I owe it to her to take it. I appreciate the help, Bertra."

She felt a jolt run through her body as he answered, "Ah, yes of course. But I should get back to the shop, it looks like what I came to see is over for the day and I have nobody to mind the place."

"As you say, I'll see you this evening, don't mind the tea, I'll finish it up and pay for it, call it an... advance on paying for your help in writing out the story of my life in the Theocracy. With my meager skills, it isn't possible for this to be done without a skilled beta reader, so... thank you in advance."

Bertra gave him a pleasant smile, if somewhat awkward, and rising from her chair, she hurried away while Lovien waved farewell behind her.

...Menowa...

Finding a building proved easy as walking through a gate. 'Ah poverty, it may be a terrible thing, but... on the plus side, it means I can acquire what I need very inexpensively, even here.' She thought practically as she walked from lot to lot on the main thoroughfare. The roads were cobblestone, but cheap, and many a stone was missing from its proper place, leaving the occasional gap. The buildings, likewise, were mostly made of wood, and again in less than the best shape. The minotaurs she saw were mostly vigorous looking, but more than once she saw the look of one who had lived on the edge of life and death. 'I must file that away for later, but from their weakness, I will work the will of god and forge strength.' As she came to a building that appeared at a favorable location, a corner lot that was right at the outer edge of the road, the pavilion, and an open square... that was also empty, conveniently enough, a thought occurred to her. "Wow... what a difference freedom makes... a few years ago... just a few years ago and I couldn't look at a stranger without fear and barely suppressed hatred. Now...? I can fight back, I can kill, and I can look even these mighty beasts in the eyes."

Her eyes turned to the northwest, toward Argland after she spoke to herself under her breath. 'Raymond, are you still in prison there? Did they hang you? Probably not but... are you alright? Are your chains weighing lightly on you... please, be alright, I'll keep my promise, I'll find my way to you again, and bring you out of wherever you are.' She suppressed an impulse to cry out to him across the nations, and reached out with a steady hand to take the sign off the door advertising the space for rent or sale, and walked in.

Shabby. Dirty. Empty. Each word occurred to her in quick succession. An old minotaur with more frail limbs than she knew minotaurs could possess, sat alone at a desk reading a book. A tuft of gray fur hung below his mouth and his body trembled slightly from the weight of age resting over him. He was thinner than he should have been. 'Not eating well.' She surmised.

When he saw that it was an elf that entered his establishment, he just stared. "Hello?" She asked, waving her hand in front of her as if to get his attention.

It snapped him out of his stupor. "Sorry," he mumbled, "never had an elf in here."

"That a problem?" She asked bluntly as she squared her shoulders.

He shook his head, "Only if you're not here to rent the place." He answered.

"I'm not." She answered with blunt force in her voice.

"Then get out." He said and pointed to the door.

"I'm here to buy it." She replied just as bluntly, ignoring his instruction.

He pointed to the crudely made chair on the other side of his crudely made desk. "Then sit down." His tone of voice hadn't changed in the slightest, but in the dim light of the candle that flickered in the filthy building, she caught his eyes. There was a very slight widening there, a sign Nua had long since learned to associate with a universal sense of 'greed'.

"Name your price." She said bluntly as she tossed her pack out of the way and yanked the seat brashly and slung it around till it slid under her descending butt. Her brashness seemed to have his attention as much as her well dressed appearance, and he rubbed the gray furs as he looked her up and down.

'Sliding scale of sale I'd say, it's fine, this is my first impression, I will not give the representatives of my god a reputation for cheapness. An ungenerous god is not loved.' She mentally recited the lesson on interacting with strangers, and waited patiently until he finished his appraisal.

"This is a great spot." He remarked tentatively.

"It was, when people had money to spend." She said sardonically.

That shut him up, and he lowered his head resignedly. "Buying this lot will cost seven platinums."

"Take ten and it's a deal." She replied, and his eyes went wider than before as she began to take out her coins and slap them down one by one in front of him.

He looked from the coins to her and back again as if not understanding what just happened.

"A token of reverence for an old one on hard times, generous is my god, so generous must we of Black Justice, also be, else we shame him. As he blesses us, so we must be a blessing to this world." She said in pious reverence.

He didn't argue as he swept the coins off the table and into his hand which waited just beyond the edge. He then yanked a deed and a key ring of bronze with some cheap iron keys on it, out of the drawer and slapped both down in front of himself. He bit his finger and signed his name in blood.

"Fill your part out whenever, just scrawl your mark on there as the new owner, and the place is yours." He said with barely suppressed excitement.

To his surprise, Nua drew a knife from her side, sliced her finger open at the tip, squeezed it lightly, and scrawled her name in blood in front of him. "Ink is easier but... your country, your ways." She said respectfully.

That respect was returned in his expression as he stood up. "I hope you prosper here. I thought I'd die here waiting for someone to want the only thing I had left. Now I can rest easy in my last two or three years of life."

"If I prosper, so will my god, if my god prospers, so will the people here. By the way, do you know anything about the other three lots, I didn't see anyone using them... and if I could expand this place some after I've fixed it up..." She began to say and then stopped when he laughed.

"What's funny?" She asked quizzically.

"You just bought'em, all four'a these are mine, elf girl. The back right is what passes for a house, the right side facing the square used to be a tavern, this place used to be a guild registration office, and the one on the left was a small inn. You thought you were buyin this measly place? No, build whatever you want, but if you buy more, read the deed next time." He laughed at her again, but kindly enough as he waved goodbye and walked out.

She was stretching out as she stood up and then clapped her hands together and rubbed them eagerly. 'OK, I need to get craftsmen here to fix this place up. I'd like to employ locals if I can, I can make it all into one temple, but I'll need proper stone and other materials, damn... I want to requisition a gate but... I might have to just piggy back off the next official one to get supplies hauled in. OK, this might be tougher than I thought.' As she pondered all that she'd have to do to establish the first temple to the Sorcerer King in the Minotaur Kingdom, her sensitive ears picked up the sound of screaming from the pavilion. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she didn't flinch away, here ears told her that nobody was running from the sound.

She snatched up her keys and dashed out the door. There was stillness from those around her, the minotaurs of the city of Menowa didn't seem to know what to do at the unexpected sound of nearby chaos. Her sharp elven eyes told her that nobody was fleeing 'away' from the chaos either.

'Which means they can't likely run at all, and I don't hear any fighting either. I know of only one force in the world that can cause an experience like that to great numbers, either he's here, or his voice is.' She didn't have to run, and she didn't even give a backward glance to where her goods were sitting in the unlocked building, the pounding in her heart told her this was too important to miss.

So she hurried across the small open area and crossed the street to the entrance, and saw from just beyond the reach of the terrible pressure, the bowed heads and trembling bodies as those seated tried to resist the irresistible, and a familiar figure let loose rage, and slowly brought it to a point, releasing the pressure off of the masses, and killing one very unfortunate human.

"You..." She uttered as the memory of those terrible eyes loomed large, the way Neia had looked at Raymond the first time, the promise of death, the fury she promised to unleash as she showed them Wenmark. Nua remembered the swelling of pity she'd felt for the woman, and at the same time... the dread of becoming too much like her if she didn't learn to let go of her own past, and her admiration of her will and the glory of the lord they now shared. It all came and went in an instant, the span of a single scream, and then it was past and another breaker had been erased from her world. The pounding of her heart only increased and her chest rose and fell faster and faster from the excitement.

"Calm down, dummy. You knew the trial was here, you can't be surprised." Nua rubbed her cheek thoughtfully as the memories ran their course. But when the ominous words of prophecy poured out of the lips of the Black Paladin, she came to another thought that she had not dreamt of the day before.

'Whatever that was, I know this, I must gather not only followers for my god, I must forge them into an army. Better requisition some weapons from the temples in the empire as well along with the shipment of stone. I think we're going to need them someday.' Nua bit her lip and backed slowly away from the exit and returned to her goods.