Unpleasant Morrow

IT WAS AN UNPLEASANT morrow, the day ensuing Zya's tragedy. Word spread like wildfire, burning into ears that were situated in darkened slums. Satharian folks scowling and bickering about the perpetual dishonor of the conqueror's regime. 

The situation served as a reminder that folks needed to ascend, that 906 was a corrupted domain of Void power and opprobrium. 

The withering spelled by the Void had rendered 906 a place that did not wuther, weather, nor reward. It was purgatory for most. For very few, they did not know better than their contexts at the time. After all, they had not seen better. Grateful they were … simply for life. 

King Lewis did not share this gratitude. He sat down upon his throne, Silas before him with evasive eyes and pale skin. It was always impressive, the way Silas crept across rooms, clambered without breath, strode without sound, and hid amidst shadows. 

"I forbid you to be silent," King Lewis said, frowning at him.

Silas fell to his knees before the throne. He was at ease that he had intruded on the king's solitude rather than company. His red cloak had a stench of blood but he wore it nonetheless. He had a reason to be amongst Satharians again.

"It was a mistake," Silas said, bowing. "I … underestimated Zya Freymond and the spawn. I thought that getting rid o' them would do everyone some good."

"Stupidity," King Lewis snapped, "it's clear your father's wisdom missed you!"

"I know and I'm sorry … I've—"

King Lewis scoffed. "Then you ran off … leaving everyone to presume Vectus' words true! You painted yourself as a betrayer of the regime, Silas."

"I've come back here to fix things," Silas said, "the people will just have to accept an alibi."

"It's not as simple as it sounds, you fool. You've disappointed me greatly."

"For that, I'm sorry," Silas stood, "but I'm not sorry for trying to rid the people of a damned spawn and … Zya Freymond."

"Since when has Zya been an issue?" 

"Since she started taking what belongs to Skotar, your grandeur."

The king steepled his fingers. "And what is it that belongs to Skotar?" 

"A slave," Silas said, "and the dust. If I didn't intervene, Barry would have been caught and the kind o' torture she would've put him through—there's no denying that he'd tell her down to the last itches on his arse."

The king shook his head. Zya was ruthless, this he knew. That was why he had granted her entry into the regime. A choice proven to be a perilous one to him now.

"Bael has talked about having her step down from her position," King Lewis said, "I've already got my eyes on the next member. What do you think about … Delia?"

"What we know about her," Silas said, "it's perfect. Zya is a hazard. She can ruin everything. And …" he frowned his brows, "I'm dealing with her, my king."

"And how are you going to do that?"

"She's bedridden by now. But Void power drawing from my body by the second … it's a sign she still breathes. But she doesn't have long."

"You do know," the king glared at him, "that if she awakes and reports to the council, I'll have to do something …"

"S-Something?"

"Something about you."

Silas frowned, looking down at the floor. "I understand."

The king looked at his fingernails. "Well, make yourself at home. I will arrange a meeting with the victims of your crime themselves … a court case, if you must. It's … necessary. The folks are clicking their tongues and stirring up problems for us."

Silas clenched his jaw. He hoped the king was capable of radically fixing the problem. But he had been granted only a chance. The nuisance of probability riled him. 

"I understand," he said. 

With the court case on the horizon and Zya's death no further, how will he rid himself of prosecution? 

֍֎֎

"Yes," Vectus said, looking at Asher, "a court case."

Asher grimaced, holding a tankard in his hand. "Why?"

"Silas has returned," Vectus said, "he claims to be innocent, that he was attacked by you and Zya first. Self-defense is a nice play on his part."

Vectus received the news from a royal guard who personally visited him by virtue of the door. Now, the guards marched through the blocks of Satharian civilization, clamoring the king's news once again. He had heard their voices little before Asher had arrived. 

"That's insane," Asher said, eyes widened.

Vectus took the tankard from who Asher had been with Delia. They went to the bar for alcohol. Alcohol the doctor needed for Zya's wounds which, for some strange reason, did not heal well. 

They stayed as they were prior treatment and so the burn of alcohol was best to curb infections. 

"Thanks, Asher," Vectus said, "now, you should get ready for the court meeting."

Asher raised a brow. "When is it?" 

"In an hour," Vectus said. "It's public too—meaning many will be there."

Asher frowned. Many terrified him. He removed the hood of his cloak—the very thing that had hid him from many. What was he going to do without it? 

"Just be calm," Vectus said, "I'll be there with you."

Asher looked about. "Where's Sal?"

"He went to gather victims."

Asher balled his fist. He had seen the body of Barry's henchman on the floor at the inn. But Barry could have more men under him. It was not going to be easy for someone who could not throw a good punch.

"Why'd he go alone?" 

Vectus paused. Why did he allow Sal to go alone? Barry was not a man to trifle with. Hearing of his dealings with Skotarii was even more disturbing. But Sal insisted. Zya's stubbornness appeared to have plagued all her friendships. 

"Well," Vectus said, "I'm not sure … I tried to stop him."

"I should go after him," Asher said. 

"No," Vectus said, "you have an hour to prepare for the court case. Chances are Barry will be hiding, having heard about the case." 

"But he'll get himself killed."

"Two men are better than one but losing two men is worse than losing one." Vectus placed a hand on his shoulder. "Besides, who will carry Zya?"

Asher grimaced. "Carry? Why?"

"We need all the evidence we can get," Vectus said, "that includes the dearest hexed Zya."

"What if he tries attacking her when he loses the court case?"

"That's absurd. And it's if he loses the court case because I think the reason he disappeared is linked to his retreat to Skotar. Some Skotarii are … wise."

Zya walks toward Silas who remains against the ground and floor. She pushes her palm forward and bends her fingers in as he struggles to pull the sword that protrudes from his chest out. He falls onto his chest. Asher frowned at the memory. 

How is he not dead? He thought. With a wound like that, he should be! What is even going on? What are these people? Why am I called the monster if people are capable of surviving a sword to the chest? And capable of controlling another person? 

He looked at Zya. Her skin was ghoulish now. Somber. She looked more wraith than woman. Her face and clothes were drenched in cold, earthy sweat. Her fingertips were wrinkled. Her breaths were quick.  

"Fine," he said, "I'll help carry her to the court."

"Yes," Vectus smiled, "it's not far from here at all. 

Asher frowned. "How's Zya going?"

"She's not doing alright …"

"I'll need a little more than that."

"She's quite doomed in about three days," Vectus said. "I tried to hide the fact but you wanted the truth."

Asher shifted on his feet, sighing. Were they about to lose her? The only person that made him feel safe amongst the detesters?  The only person who made him feel … human. 

"We need to make the court aware of Silas' spell," he said.

Vectus clicked his tongue. "Even if we do, Asher, Silas could deny it. We have very little time to prove him guilty of the accusations." 

"What if we make Barry admit everything?" 

"That's only possible with interrogation," the doctor said. "Barry is an esteemed man. Not much besides empirical evidence could send that man into interrogation."

Asher knotted his brows, tensing. Putting Barry down as guilty before the court would be a difficult feat. After all, Barry was but a man in business; apparently esteemed too as the doctor put it. 

He hoped Sal managed to capture him. Maybe he would have to sneak out to help. Sneak away in the nick of time when Vectus' attention was elsewhere. But no, Zya would need to be carried.

Not only the latter but there was a chance Sal would bring Barry to the lair—to them. To them before they took him to court. 

Asher looked at Vectus who gawked at him as he mulled. "How long's it been since Sam left?" 

"About half an hour."

That means he still has a lot of time, Asher thought, to bring Barry here—if that's what he planned. If not, we can still use things like his son. 

"Paul," Asher said. "There's a boy named Paul. I think he's Barry's son."

Vectus folded his arms. "Is that so?"

"Yes but I don't think he cares very much about him but that's not the point. Point is, he was there and Sal doesn't know about him. If we could get his son to confess …"

"An investigation will be much more likely," Vectus finished.