71 A Judgment Table, And A Jugdement Table

"Judgement Table? What is that," I asked the lady.

She turned her head on the table, "you must not be from here, am I correct?"

"Somewhat."

She nodded and pointed to the gathering mass around the crooked windows, "have you ever heard of 'trial by combat', an ancient law that stated," she opened her hands, "all accusations with neither witness nor confession will be settled via duel. Whoever guided by the lady of justice will be proclaimed right."

The crowd pushed each other, sometimes even shoving their faces. Although there was no chatter, it was nevertheless noisy.

"It used to be the go to method in our old country when it came to solving disputes," she sighed, and there was an inexplicable flicker within her eyes, "but after the present king took the throne, he changed the rules, but the gist is all the same," with her fingers, she formed a spiky crown on her head, "as you may know, all countries are based on the supposed 'magic' their rulers carry. I personally believe this mystical hogwash to be a rumor spread by the upper class to further divide us, but it certainly does explain the radical difference in culture, science, religion and diplomacy."

"sʜᴇ ɪs ʀɪɢʜᴛ," Agnes told me from behind. "ᴀ ᴘʜɪʟᴏsᴏᴘʜʏ, ᴡʜᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪᴛɪᴢᴇɴs ᴜsᴇ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ ᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛ, sᴇᴇᴘs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪɢʜᴇsᴛ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ, ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇsᴛ ᴀʙʏss. ғʀᴏᴍ ᴋɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ sʟᴀᴠᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴀᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛʀɪᴇs ᴅᴇᴠᴇʟᴏᴘ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʙᴇʟɪᴇғs. ᴡʜᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡs, ᴏɴᴇ ᴋɪɴɢᴅᴏᴍ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴇ sᴛᴜᴄᴋ ɪɴ ᴀɴ ᴀɢᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɴᴏ ғɪʀᴇ, ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʜɪs ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏʀs ᴛʀᴀᴠᴇʟ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɪʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ғᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀʏ ᴡɪɴɢs. ᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴊᴜsᴛ ғɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟғ ɪɴ ᴀ sᴇᴛᴛʟᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏғ ᴄᴀɴɴɪʙᴀʟs. ɪ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴛᴏᴡɴ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ʟɪᴠᴇ ᴀᴍᴏɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ." Agnes came closer, "ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪs ᴘᴏssɪʙʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ. ᴏʀ ᴇʟsᴇ ɪᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ."

The woman continued. "Our majesty, he likes to offer people chances. Now, this may sound eccentric to the ears of an outsider, but we trust our king. He has, ever since on the throne, led us wisely," she smiled faintly, "what used to be a 'trial by combat' has changed to what we refer as 'Judgement Table'. The idea is largely the same, the winner is the righteous one, only, there was no need for bloodshed anymore. Any challenge is welcomed, the 'table' does not judge, it proves." She then closed her eyes and there was a tinge of sadness that came with her expression, "sadly most have not gotten used to this recent change, and most still decide to settle accusations by gruesome duels."

The early sun gleamed harshly on her like fiery arrow shot by a holy consecrated angel, coloring her face brightly white.

She told me passingly, "Judgement Tables area always held in the morning, when the church-bell chimes twice." She then walked away, carrying barrels of beer to the watchful crowd, "watch were you spill your drinks, birdbrains," the lady shouted imposingly at them.

I was left alone, so I took a seat on a table that was free and watched the scenery around me. The lightning in this inn was only from the sun. It was an outsider, a vampire that could only enter when invited, and breached only the central part of the dim dining hall.

The hall was very tall, with a wide hearth placed directly in the middle as the primary organ. Smoke rose from the cauldron through the chimney. There was a weird mix of smells, from a lovely lavender and fermented roses, to the muddy ground and faint stench of urine.

"sᴏ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ?" Agnes asked me out of curiosity.

I replied, "do I like what?"

"ɪ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀsᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇs ʏᴏᴜ ᴛɪᴄ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪsʜ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇʀᴀ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴍᴏʀᴀʟɪᴛʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀsᴛᴀɴᴅ— ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪs ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪᴛ ᴀʀʙɪᴛʀᴀʀɪʟʏ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇs ᴏɴ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪs ᴄᴏʀʀᴇᴄᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪs ɴᴏᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ sᴇʟғɪsʜ ᴏɴᴇs, ɢᴜɪᴅᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴ. sᴏ ɪs ᴛʜɪs ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏғ ᴊᴜᴅɢᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ɴᴏᴛɪᴏɴs ᴀʀᴇ sʜᴇᴅ, ʙᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇs ᴛʀᴜᴇ sᴇʟғ, ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴋɪɴɢ?" She asked me with a knowing smile—a question which she thought she already knew the answer to.

"No. I hate it," I answered.

Her eyes opened wide and she remained stunned for a few seconds. "ᴡʜʏ," she asked, "ᴡʜʏ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ɪᴛ? ʏᴏᴜ sᴀɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʙʜᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏᴄɪᴇᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ɪᴛ ᴊᴜᴅɢᴇs ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴜʟᴇs ɪᴛ sᴇᴛ ᴜᴘ, sᴏ ɪs ᴛʜɪs ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ sᴏʟᴜᴛɪᴏɴ? ɪᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇ ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴇs ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ ɢᴏᴅ, ᴀ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴠɪᴀʙʟᴇ sᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ, ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴘᴇsᴋʏ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴs. ɪᴛ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴʟʏ ɪs ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ."

"Yes, but this is worse. What is a world with such archaic rules? Where everyone killed each other for small reasons? Certainly an icky idea."

"ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀsᴛᴀɴᴅ, ɪs ᴛʜɪs ɴᴏᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ—ᴀ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴀᴄᴛs ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅᴇsɪʀᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪsʜ ғᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴇs, ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪsʜ ғᴏʀ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴘʀᴇᴀᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴅᴇᴀs ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴀᴄᴛ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. sᴀʏ, ᴅᴏᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀ ʜʏᴘᴏᴄʀɪᴛᴇ," Agnes asked my grimly. There was a faint expectation, glimmering between her eyes, on what my answer might be.

I didn't get mad at her slight provocation, as there was no need for me to do so. And certainly, her question was a valid one.

"Well, let me explain it in this way," I darted my eyes around the tables and saw a dull knife, "if right now, I took that knife and killed myself, would you be surprised?"

"ʜᴇʏ! ᴄᴇᴀsᴇ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs!" She shouted at me, "ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ɴᴏ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴍᴇᴀsᴜʀᴇs ᴊᴜsᴛ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ғᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅs ᴍᴀʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴏɴ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀs, ᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɪᴍᴘᴏʀᴛᴀɴᴛʟʏ, ᴍᴇ."

"So would you be surprised," I asked her.

She replied snappily, "ɪ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴʟʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴍᴀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴡᴀʀᴅ." She then mumbled to herself, "ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏᴡᴀʀᴅʟʏ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴇsᴄᴀᴘɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʟɪғᴇ's ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ."

"But you would not be surprised, right," I asked her once more, and she was stumped for an answer. "You think I am capable of anything, and you would be correct to assume so. I don't believe in anything, because in a world with no morals, nothing is true. I do not lie, I only tell a different truth, one which is worth knowing. If I live by no rules, how can I break them? So if I do not believe in anything, how can I be a hypocrite of my words and actions?"

What I wished for is a world with No Rules, not with dumb ones. Us humans, when bound by order, are just so boring. Life needed to be unpredictable, exciting, a flip of a coin which decides your existence, or else, how would you really know that you do exist? Some day, I too, wish that there may be someone an could not predict, someone as unpredictable as me.

"ᴛʜɪs . . ." She looked at me, stunned and deep in thought, and after a long exhale she asked me wearily, "ɪ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴏɴ ᴄʜᴀʟʟᴇɴɢɪɴɢ 'ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʟᴏᴜᴅ', ᴀᴍ ɪ ᴄᴏʀʀᴇᴄᴛ?"

"Probably." I shrugged my shoulders, as always. "Just as I could never convince you, you will not be able to convince me, so let's not leave this talk up to words, but let our actions be the judge of who is in the right."

Suddenly, as our talk was concluded, I heard a bell ring from far away. Once, twice—and when I saw the people in the inn, I saw them staring outside the window with bated breaths. Thrice—only the bell resounded within the inn. There was an eerie silence, like time frozen, that caught every onlooker in its grips. For the fourth—it rung one last time, and the people gulped in anticipation. They looked at each other, and even the waitress cum owner who had busied herself with cleaning the dirtied floor, stopped in her motion.

Afterwards, they all took their seats and resumed what they had been doing the whole time: eating, drinking and conversing with one another. They talked frenziedly, sometimes laughing loudly, sometimes whispering suspensefully, but they all returned to the merry atmosphere I was accustomed to. At most, they would send occasional glances towards the wooden door. It was as if nothing had ever happened, well, truth be told, there really was nothing that happened. A jolting experience.

"What was all that about?" I blinked consecutively.

The waitress approached me with an empty tray and asked, "would you like the soup from yesterday again?"

"First of all, yes please," I nodded gleefully, "secondly, what just happened?"

"When the bell chimes again, the Table has ended. Now, as you may know, this town has become a lot more busy lately. People come and go," she then tightly gripped and her brows furrowed slightly, "and sometimes they arrive not with good intentions. Particularly, there is a visitor who has been causing all sorts of trouble." She shuddered slightly, "ever since he arrived, not a day has gone by in which no Judgment Table was held. Truly troubling."

After a while, the doors violently jumped open. It was like a breach, or a raid, and each door slammed against the wall, individually resounding throughout the dining room.

"Here he is again," the woman said with a low tone.

A middle aged man entered and everyone's eyes fell on him. He had an overbearing frame, and was very tall as he peered at the world one head higher than anyone else. His whole body was robust, as if shaped out of hard marble, especially his arms stood out, with their size of wooden clubs. Every step he took seemed to creak the floor. He looked like that brick house in the tale of 'the three little pigs'. He also looked like the guy who would destroy that brick house only because he felt like it. Again, a silence rang throughout the hall, if only there was a pianist stopping exaggeratedly and we could have had the whole ol' western vibe.

"Is no one congratulating me on yet another well-fought win?" He said was he entered, but no one answered. They just stared at him warily. He had a raspy and deep voice, that pried ones ear, even if they did not wish to listen.

"Do you see that crest on him," the voluptuous woman whispered while hinting at the crossed-out lion mark stitched on his chest, "he is a former knight."

"Hey what is wrong with ya," a person from the outside shouted. "Don't go 'ff on ya own like that," he was at similar age, with a wild stubble on his face, and dirtied clothes. Especially the scar following his eye like a pointed arrow stood out from his appearance and following him was a group, similarly aged entered while joyfully laughing. They trudged around the place as if they owned it. The males boasted a small sword on their hips, while the females wore loose clothes with a piercing red lipstick. Everywhere they looked, the crowd would bury their head.

"Oh, Daven, I was just looking for a place to sit," the muscular man laughed merrily. "Hey you, get off that table. My companions want to sit here!" He shouted at a seated couple, who then swiftly scurried away. "Spineless coward. Lady if you wish for a real man, you know where I am. Name's Chase, remember it," he joked derisively.

"His majesty has stated, fate should not be left to the gods, but to oneself." The owner said with a trembling voice, "however, many still believe in the Lord above, and someone that has been challenged so many times, how can he truly be righteous? Still, if neither god nor king is willing to punish him, what are we to do so—surely they know better than us." She sighed gloomily, and in her eyes, dark clouds had formed.

The muscular man named Chase shouted once more, and his group soon joined. They talked with a volume that overshadowed everyone around him. The women flocked around the men, while the men took a seat with no regard to the people around them.

"Come on, where's the waitress," Chase shouted impatiently towards my direction. "Or would you like trying to kick me out again?"

The owner bit her lips and grudgingly made her way to the man. She stood beside him with a business smile (but a fierce glare) and asked for their order. He, however, only looked at her, and when she wasn't paying enough attention, grabbed her soft butt, his fingers sinking deep into the crease. The owner thwarted his hand away, but not before turning red in shame and speeding off.

The group laughed harshly, while the girls giggled. Chase slammed his hard hand on the table and looked at the silent spectators, "what dawn—what cloud! Who cares about that? But I have to thank them, Truly this is the most beautiful Era!" His words roused the cheers of his companions. "Not a single one dares to oppose me!"

I tugged my long hair between my ears. Quietly, I watched him with curious eyes.