Chapter 24: In Jail

Jayce sat slumped in the shadowy corner of his cold, cramped cell. A lone beam of moonlight slipped through the narrow ventilation bars high on the wall, offering the only illumination in the oppressive darkness. His left arm rested in a makeshift sling, the white cloth stained with spots of dried blood.

He hadn't moved in hours, his body a motionless heap, his mind trapped in a whirlwind of guilt and regret. The image of the girl haunted him—the life he had ended with his actions, the research that had been exposed in the most disastrous way possible.

The future he had once seen so clearly now seemed impossibly distant. His dreams, his career, his reputation—crushed under the weight of one tragic mistake. What would his mother say? What would become of his research? What would become of him?

The faint echo of footsteps in the hallway pulled Jayce from his spiraling thoughts. The sound grew louder, stopping just outside his cell door. He didn't bother looking up. Whatever awaited him, it could hardly matter anymore.

The door creaked open, and the muted lamplight from the corridor spilled into the cell. An enforcer stood at attention for a moment, then stepped aside to allow someone else in—a figure Jayce immediately recognized.

Professor Heimerdinger.

Jayce glanced up briefly, his disheveled hair obscuring part of his face. The diminutive professor's usual inquisitive demeanor was absent. Instead, he looked solemn, a heavy weight evident in his expressive features.

Once inside, the enforcer shut the door behind him, leaving them alone.

"I remember the first time I met you at the academy," Heimerdinger began. "An ambitious young inventor, full of promise. You reminded me of myself—a scientist through and through, unafraid to dream big and revolutionize the world with your ideas."

Jayce let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "No offense, professor, but I'm sure you've said that to plenty of students."

"This time, I mean it," Heimerdinger replied, offering a weak smile.

Jayce's expression darkened. "I don't know why you're here, professor, but it's clear I belong here. My research, my mistakes—they cost a life. Whatever the council decides, I deserve it."

Heimerdinger took a step closer, his small hands clasped behind his back. "Part of being a scientist is making mistakes, Jayce."

"Small mistakes," Jayce muttered, his voice breaking. "Not ones that kill a child."

The professor's face hardened, and he turned away momentarily, his bushy tail twitching slightly. "In some ways, I bear responsibility as well," he said quietly. "You were my pupil. I should have guided you better. And as head of the council, the state of this city—of the Undercity—is as much my failure as anyone's. The choices that led that girl to her fate… if I had done more, perhaps she wouldn't have made them. If you must blame someone, blame me."

Jayce scoffed, shaking his head. "Why are you really here, professor? To compare guilt? To make me feel better about all this?" He winced, realizing his harsh words. "I'm sorry. That was—"

"Bitterness is a natural consequence of guilt," Heimerdinger interrupted, his voice understanding. "I want you to be honest with me, Jayce. What were you researching?"

Jayce hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I… I discovered a way to harness magic through technology."

The professor's eyes widened. "Magic? The arcane is volatile, unpredictable, dangerous. It's not something to toy with."

Jayce laughed bitterly. "He said that, too."

"He?" Heimerdinger tilted his head.

Jayce froze, realizing his slip. He shook his head quickly. "Never mind."

The professor's sharp gaze lingered on him. "Who is it, Jayce? Is he an accomplice? If someone else is involved in your research, it's critical we know. You've seen the consequences of carelessness."

"It's just me," Jayce said, his voice flat. "The one who gave me the crystal warned me of the risks."

"And yet he gave it to you nonetheless," Heimerdinger mused. "A curious individual indeed."

Jayce murmured something unintelligible, his thoughts wandering to a different subject. "What happened to the girl, professor? Is she… back with her family?"

"She never truly left it," Heimerdinger said softly. "Her family's always been here. Tarren. She was his adoptive sister."

Jayce's eyes widened in shock. "What? That's why he warned me… but why didn't he—?"

"Warn you about what, Jayce?"

Jayce hesitated, struggling with his words. "The robbery," he admitted after a moment. "Tarren told me someone was planning to rob my workshop and to hide anything valuable. But if she was his sister… why didn't he stop her?"

Heimerdinger's gaze softened. "Sometimes, words alone aren't enough to sway a determined heart. He told me about her—how stubborn she was, how much she wanted to prove herself. I imagine a girl like that wasn't easily dissuaded."

The professor's own thoughts seemed to drift, a flicker of sorrow crossing his face before he turned toward the door. "Your sentencing is tomorrow, Jayce. I will try to do my best to convince the other councilmen of your sentence to be lightened, but I'm sorry, you must prepare for the worst."

He rapped on the door, and the enforcer outside unlocked it. As Heimerdinger stepped into the corridor, he paused, looking back over his shoulder.

"Tell me, Jayce," he asked, his voice quiet but probing. "If Tarren knew his sister was going to rob your workshop… Does he know about your research?"

Jayce said nothing, his silence betraying him.

Heimerdinger sighed heavily, the weight of his own conclusions pressing down on him. Without another word, he stepped out, leaving Jayce alone once more.

The cell door clanged shut, and the silence returned, more suffocating than ever. Jayce slumped against the wall, his mind racing. The threads of guilt, regret, and uncertainty tangled together, binding him in an inescapable web.