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 Posted: Fri Jul 13, 2012 5:56 pm
This is a relatively short piece that I did for a guild I'm in, Academy Royale. The captain asked me to write up a tragic event in the school's past. I chose to tell the story of the resident ghost and the only person on staff who could have seen her in life, my dullahan teacher, Dubhan Connolly. It's worth noting that as a dullahan, if Dubhan says the name of any living being aloud, the being will die. It's also worth noting that I knocked this out in like four hours and had some weird specifics to work with. A bit of blood and gore, mild swearing within.
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Posted: Fri Jul 13, 2012 6:00 pm
A Note from Herr Dubhan Connolly
Law and Ethics Teacher
Fall 2012
What follows is a series of journal entries from my personal daily logs. All students are welcome to read what's within, but be warned: it is not for the faint of heart or stomach.
I pride myself in keeping accurate records of the things that happen around this school, and the Ireland v. Neero case remains to this day one of the darkest procedures I have ever been involved in.
You have been warned.
— Herr Connolly
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Posted: Fri Jul 13, 2012 6:02 pm
The First Attacks
Sunday, March 8th, 1018
6 AM
Little to report this weekend. Headmaster Tolsten has heard rumours from the surrounding villages about more unexplained attacks. On the Headmaster's request, I am heading to Wolverhampton myself today to see if I can learn anything, although I doubt I will receive a warm welcome. Prepared an excellent lesson for tomorrow. I am anxious to see how it will go over with these students.
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Posted: Fri Jul 13, 2012 6:03 pm
Curiouser and Curiouser
Monday, March 9th, 1018
11:30 AM As I suspected. They refused to let me in the town gates, even after I proved I was unarmed. Sometimes I forget that outside these school grounds, I am feared and hated as dearly as the ones I teach are loved and revered. Master Tolsten himself is going to get the story. He must be worried if he's so determined to find out the cause of these attacks. We had a good lesson this morning. My lecture managed to spark a rousing debate about [faded and illegible] between the prince of Brickston and a princess from the fairy realms. I hope we can keep up this pace until the end of term. Later, 8:45 PM Master Tolsten has returned with most disturbing news. No one in the town remembers anyone being attacked, despite sending us word that there had been several assaults. He told me a fellow with a black eye and "clear evidence of having been memory-wiped" (whatever that may mean) told him with a straight face that nothing fishy had been going on. What a peculiar incidence.
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Posted: Fri Jul 13, 2012 6:15 pm
Staffordshire's Fiend
Tuesday, March 10th, 1018
6PM Another rousing lesson today, this time about the nature of the attacks all around Staffordshire and the role magic plays in law. Is it still illegal if you do not get caught? Of course it is, and our particular monster is fiendishly elusive. It sounds like Wolverhampton was hit again last night, but Tolsten has said the villagers refuse to elaborate. What in the name of samhain is going on? I must admit, I am curious. It sounds as though people are nearly being killed out there, but can't remember a thing. To even the human eye, they display signs of having been assaulted physically, and magically to a trained one. If the attacks get closer than Smethwick, I will take matters into my own hands.
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Posted: Fri Jul 13, 2012 6:16 pm
The Green-Eyed Man
Wednesday, March 11th, 1018
9AM Another attack this morning, this time on a little boy. This has gone far enough. I lasted through my morning class, then cancelled the rest of the day's engagements and implored Master Tolsten to let me investigate. He finally acquiesced, and confessed to me that he's been getting increasingly worried with both the frequency and severity of attacks. Perhaps the villages refuse to act because they are hiding the attacker among them— or they are reluctant to accept help because no one has died. At the rate this monster is going, though, how else can it end? Aidan and I are going to Wolverhampton straight away to get to the bottom of this. Later, just past midnight It took nearly eleven hours of riding through the rain to get here; I arrived at just past 8 this evening. I am staying the night camped outside the city walls, they refuse to let me stay within the city. They agreed to speak with me once I let them silence me with a rag tied around my mouth and several resident wizards casting spells on me. I did not much like the idea (nor do I still!), but I must do what I can. Let me copy down from my notes: When asked about strangers in the village, I received a resounding "no." This could go one of a few different ways: the attacker is one of them, s/he is very good at hiding outside the village, s/he is adept at wiping the memories of an entire town... the possibilities are staggering. Tolsten did say that the black-eyed chap was clearly mind-altered, though I myself cannot say how. I then managed to ask about anything out of the ordinary. Most of the village said no, but a few young ladies who were too afraid to speak to me and communicated through a village elderman told me (in between dramatic fainting spells) that there had been a handsome young lad outside the gates a few days ago. When asked to describe him, they all came up with different descriptions. Oddly, they agreed on one thing. Though they couldn't correctly recall his face, every single one of them vividly described grassy, emerald green eyes. How on earth can they all describe something with such intimacy if they never saw him up close and can't even get within arm's reach of each other's physical descriptions of the man? I asked to see the boy who was attacked, and after another vehement, town-wide denial of any sort of attack, I scouted him out for myself. The poor boy was no older than six, and spoke to me through his terrified mother. I asked if he'd made a new friend recently, and he too described a man with green eyes that he'd played with the previous day. What on earth does it mean? Perhaps I can get more answers tomorrow, if I return during the daylight hours. I do tend to bother people at night.
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Posted: Fri Jul 13, 2012 6:19 pm
The Nine-Angles
Thursday, March 11th, 1018
7AM Curious. The boy from yesterday sought me out again today at the crack of dawn. He actually seemed braver without his mother to hide behind, and spoke to me freely: "My name is Alan Emeritus, I live in Wolverhampton." "I recall, we met yesterday," I said, grimly remembering his name. "I wanted to tell you more, but my mama was too scared," he said. "Can I share with you?" He pointed to my little pot of porridge on the fire. I gave him a bowl and spoon, he helped himself. "What is it, my young friend?" "The man— my new friend," he said between bites. "I don't think he's just my friend." "Nor do I." "What do you want with him?" he asked curiously. "That depends on what he's been doing." "Are you a town guard?" "Of sorts." By now, I was taking notes. "I am a guardian of the Academy several leagues from here." "Where are you from?" (Here we got off topic, talking about myself and Ireland and why I had even made porridge for a while. I managed to bring him back around after a quarter of an hour.) "Tell me about your green-eyed friend," I said. "Does he have a name?" "He never told me," Alan said. "But he said if anyone ever found out we were friends, he would do something bad." "That is hardly a friendly thing to say. What did you do together?" Alan frowned, thinking hard. "We went to play in the forest outside the gates." I believe he was lying, but not entirely. If they were playing out in that forest, I shall carry Aidan back to the Academy. I decided not to press the issue, lest I scare him off. "What else happened?" "He kissed my neck and said goodbye," Alan said. A vampire? No. "May I...?" Before I could formulate a proper request, Alan pulled aside his shirt collar. No, it did not look like a vampire bite. It did not look like a bite at all. Instead, there was an imprint, barely visible, of a nine-angles: A warlock. A very, very strange, evil warlock. Dangerous. Murderous? It does not seem like it, not yet. But left unchecked, this could evolve into a very bloody situation. I walked Alan back to the gates and turned back to record our conversation and wait for the gatesmen to allow me in. I must seek out the warlock's other victims, to see if they know anything further. Alan has proven informative, I can only hope that the others will be as well. Later, midnight I found a few others marked with the nine-angles. The black-eyed lad nearly dislocated his jaw when I asked if he had been "kissed" lately. Perhaps I need to rethink my angle of attack on this matter... but Alan seemed to remember it as such; he could not be the only one. I found the mark hidden in his black eye (how in the name of sidhe...) One of the fainting ladies from yesterday also had the mark, on her forehead. The imprint is very faint, but unmistakable. An older fellow had one on the small of his back. However the fellow is doing it, he is being remarkably prolific and getting bolder, it seems. There have been no attacks since my arrival in Wolverhampton, and no news from Smethwick or the rest of Staffordshire. I am still deciding if this is welcome news or not. I will take my leave of this place in the morning, and report back to Master Tolsten.
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Posted: Fri Jul 13, 2012 6:24 pm
Neero the Warlock
Friday, March 13th, 1018
11PM Disaster. Bloody disaster. My hands are shaking. I, I can scarcely believe what has taken place tonight. Let me recount from the beginning. I left Wolverhampton at 7AM this morning. The townsfolk seemed glad to be rid of me. I cannot blame them, I feel as though I turned their quiet lives upside down for a while with my warnings of warlocks and kisses and such. On the ride back, I kept an eye out for anything strange on the way to the school. It was a drier day, which made for a smoother return than my departure from the school. I reached the outside boundaries at around half past 5PM, and felt something was amiss. The usual guards were not at their posts. I stabled Aidan and checked the guardhouse: empty. Completely empty. All the guards were occupied with something, but what? Suspicion raised, I headed straight for the headmaster's office. Tolsten was not in. In fact, none of the teachers seemed to be in. I heard screaming, locking doors, and shouts for help. Someone was here that was not supposed to. I ran further into the hall to find Signora Piazzoni barricading the doors that led out of the residence hall. When asked what was happening, she turned to me, her face stark-white, and whispered "He's here." "Who, Signora? The warlock?" "You knew?" "I found evidence of a powerful warlock lurking around Wolverhampton, but the townsfolk were uncooperative," I said quickly. "What's happened?" Signora Piazzoni dissolved into tears, and could not answer me. I instructed her to return to her room and bar the door. If such an event could force our fierce Signora to tears, I feared its outcome. I bolted up the stairs from the staff ground floor to the men's second floor. Headmaster Tolsten was ushering students into their rooms, icing them shut with his magic. "Master Snow, what is going on?" "The warlock. Neero. He wants something," Tolsten said. "I could not say what." "Where are the others?" "Signora is barring the ground floor doors, I am handling the men's quarters," Tolsten rattled off. "Count Meunier and Chiyohime are attempting to catch him." "Where?" "Women's floor— get inside, boy!" Tolsten shouted at a confused looking Prince Watson. "Dubhan— help them. I will bar this floor, go!" I cast a glance down the hall. Several older boys were herding the younger ones into the dorms, locking the doors behind them for Tolsten to ice shut. They were a bright bunch, they had it under control. I ran upstairs. "Connolly-senpai!" Chiyohime called out to me, locking doors behind her as she raced down the hall. "Where?" She pointed to a room. There was something blocking it, though I could not see what. "Force field," she said. "Composed of some combination of life and death energies. We have tried everything— Tolsten cannot even get through." "Who is in there?" I asked. "Princess Ariella," Chiyohime replied, breathless and pale. "We could not evacuate her in time—!" Screams came from inside the room, answering screams echoing around the hall of girls' dorms. "H-HELP!" "Shut up, you STUPID girl—!" "SOMEONE!" The voices reverberated around the stone building, ripples of sound that crashed violently against one another as sounds of a fight escaped the room. "We cannot leave them in there," Chiyohime said, nearly tearing out her graying hair in panic. "What—" I touched the field. It was mostly solid. The Count flew in from the only open window in the hall, which Chiyohime promptly shut, locked, and barred. "The window's blocked too," said the Count, changing back from raven to man. "There's no way in, we have to break it down." "Back," said I. In a burst of flames, the field of energy blackened and went flat against the wall, but did not break. "What can we do?" Count Meunier asked as Tolsten came up from the lower floor. "On three." Tolsten and I both shot ice and fire at the field, alternately freezing and melting away the decaying energy. Chiyohime picked up her bow, aiming an arrow at the middle of the door as the field dissipated at last. "Kick it in," she commanded. We obliged. What we found inside will haunt me (and, I suspect, everyone here) until the end of time. Princess Ariella of Ireland, splayed on the ground, blood soaking every visible surface of the room. Her head lay at an odd angle, a break clearly visible in the vertebrae of her neck. What few limbs of hers were not bloodied were bruised, making it nearly impossible to recognize the poor girl. A knife was stuck in her chest, blood pouring from the puncture. Standing over her was the warlock, Neero. Even now, I have trouble recalling his face that night. I suppose disguising himself is a specialty of his. It must, to continue to elude me. But, as the villagers of Wolverhampton said, he possessed the most unmistakable pair of eyes, warm and shockingly green in the darkness. They turned for a split second towards us before we acted. Chiyohime shot the man in the back of the shoulder, he hissed like a snake and smoked from the wound her holy arrows had caused. Tolsten iced the man's arms and legs to the ground, but that hardly stopped him. He let out a thunder-shattering scream, shaking paintings from the walls and shattering the glass lantern on the bedside table. I heard Tolsten swear; the lantern must have been the sole source of light in the room. Foul green smoke obscured our field of vision, flooding from the warlock's bellowing mouth. The Count tore strips from the girl's bedsheets and ordered the window opened. After some flames from me, it cracked, and shattered at last, letting in fresh air. The Count tied a thick wad of bedding around the warlock's mouth, dampening the sound considerably, though it did not quiet him. The smoke stopped. Chiyohime beat her wings, aiding the ventilation of the room. We managed to dislodge him from the ground and move him to the dungeon cells beneath the residence hall. Tolsten decided to keep him gagged, which was a wise move. We on the ground floor can still hear him, screaming through the layers of bedsheets. The students, thankfully, could not hear him on the upper floors. Tolsten and I went around, releasing the students from their rooms, melting the ice and unlocking the doors. Rather than keep them in the residence hall with a dead student above and dangerous warlock below, he moved them all to have a mass campout in the dining hall. Chiyohime, Signora, the Count, and I will watch over them. Tolsten has decided to wait until tomorrow to make a formal announcement. Everyone is still shaken, and with how small the student body is, no doubt they already know which of their number has fallen. Poor Signora is still crying, albeit silently, while the students sleep fitfully. I cannot blame them.
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Posted: Fri Jul 13, 2012 6:27 pm
Truth
Saturday, March 14th, 1018
2PM Classes have been cancelled while we work on the murder of Princess Ariella. Which is to say, Tolsten, the Count, and I. The ladies among us have been far too shaken to take part. I fear for Signora's health, she has scarcely stopped shaking since the events took place. However will she pour her tea to comfort her students now? The Count cordoned off the residence halls; the students will remain in the dining hall until we can figure out what to do with our friend the warlock. Not to mention, the poor girl upstairs. Tolsten, the Count, and I opened the door to Ariella's bedroom. It looked just as grisly as the first time we had seen it, though the blood had dried and the screams quieted. Tolsten lowered his head, breathing deeply. "Dubhan. Sidgeir. What do you think?" he asked. "He was after her," the Count said. "Without question." "But why?" I knelt down to look at her. She was very badly bruised; had she lived, she would have been permanently disfigured. "We could ask him, but I doubt we'll find out," said the Count. "May I?" I asked Tolsten. He nodded. "You are the best acquainted with the dead. Do what you must." Asking forgiveness from her lifeless body, I pulled the bloodied clothes off her body, and began washing away blood. All in all, she had thirteen bruises, a broken neck, and seven puncture wounds from the knife. The Count pulled it out of her chest, examining it. "Is it cursed?" Tolsten asked. "No. It's just a knife," said the Count. "Looks like a dinner knife, actually." "Any knife can become a weapon in rage-bidden hands," I told him, looking over the girl. "This man did not know how to kill a person. That was not his goal." "Oh?" The Count crouched down, pointing at her neck. "What do you call that?" "A broken neck. And you?" I stood up. "He snapped her neck, but that did not kill her. The knife did." "Imagine that." The Count also straightened up, looking unusually somber, even for him. "She's bruised to hell, too..." "What could he have wanted?" Tolsten pondered. After several hours, we gave up pondering. If we are to know what happened, we will have to find out from the man himself. Headmaster Tolsten has taken official responsibility for the murder, although no one blames him. He has sent word to the royal family of Ireland. We await their response. I believe we intend to hold the man to trial. Were it not so grim, I would call it an excellent teaching opportunity. For, while it is, I wish never to teach something so horrific. Later, 10PM Princess Melissa came up to me to ask for the truth. It seems that there are stories going around about how Ariella was murdered, and no one wants to give these kids a fair shot at understanding what happened. I sat her down along with an eagerly listening rest of the school, and told them what had happened. By the time I had finished, I almost wished I had not. Several princesses passed out, and the prince from Osaka was nearly sick. I know this is a harsh reality to spring on such young souls, but what was I to do? These are the future kings and queens, the rulers of the world's tomorrow. If they cannot handle such things as this, how will they face the demands of ruling? We must all hope they never face a situation that even close to rivals this one.
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Posted: Fri Jul 13, 2012 6:29 pm
Blame
Sunday, March 15th, 1018
4AM Tolsten and I spent the evening talking, well into the morning. He is upset with me for sharing the story with the rest of the school. "What was I supposed to do, Master Snow?" I asked. "Princess Bookworm asked me the truth and I gave it." "You were supposed to lie!" Tolsten snapped. "Lie! And save them the nightmares! God knows now I dream of nothing else but that poor girl and her wretched attacker— how in the name of heaven did he even know where to go!?" He paced around his office, flailing his arms wildly, sending small spheres of ice ricocheting around the room. "You surely cannot mean to keep this quiet." "Of course I don't mean to keep it quiet! Not now!" He collapsed back into his chair, exhausted. "I've just heard back from Their Highnesses Rosin and Irene." "What do they intend?" "They want us to hold the trial here," he said. I felt uneasy. "So they do mean to hold him accountable." "If they didn't, who would?" His face fell into his hands. "The whole of Staffordshire denies Neero's very existence!" "I rather thought that if Ireland's royalty did not want justice for Princess Ariella, we would—" Tolsten jumped when I used her name, then seemed to realize that I could do her no harm anymore. "What power do we have to take a warlock to trial?" "The law is on everyone's side," I said. "Dubhan, I need your help with this trial," he said. "Please. I can't do this alone." "No one expects you to." We laid out the details. King Rosin and Queen Irene will be here tomorrow. The trial is set for Tuesday. I do not look forward to it. Headmaster Tolsten has asked me to preside over the trial. I suppose the only less desirable position would be defending the warlock himself. Later, 10PM The students are all being prepared for the royal family's visit. They will be fine, I think. Signora has taught them well. "You unlucky b*****d, I don't envy you," the Count told me just after dinner. "I appreciate the sentiment, Count Corvus." "Tolsten's just told me that Neero's asked to defend himself." "What?" "You're not going to listen to him, are you?" the Count asked, looking worried. I sighed. "It is my duty as presiding judge to hear each side—" "You saw what he did to that girl!" Count Meunier barked at me. "How can you possibly find him innocent?!" "Just because a man is declared not guilty of a crime does not make him innocent," I said patiently. "The fact remains, we did not see him murder the girl. Unlikely though it is, my responsibility as presiding judge is to hear out all possibilities." I frowned. "Although, I must confess. I cannot see a way for him to wriggle out of this." The Count let out a breath, looking relieved. "Thank God." "Do not thank him yet," said I. "I do not think Neero will make this trial easy on anyone."
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Posted: Fri Jul 13, 2012 6:32 pm
Judgment
Monday, March 16th, 1018
3AM I cannot sleep. The thought of the trial today looms over me. I am anxious and afraid of what may happen. The students have asked to be in attendance. At first, Tolsten was willing to let them, but Signora Piazzoni put her foot down. Only the senior and junior students will be allowed in. So much the better, my classroom will not hold an entire school. Neero the warlock has calmed down considerably. I steeled myself and visited him late last night. He was no longer bound or gagged, sitting freely in his dungeon cell. "Warlock." He looked up when I addressed him. A sinister grin flitted across his face for a moment. "She died, didn't she?" "You are being brought to trial at 8 AM tomorrow morning before the royalty of Ireland," I told him, keeping stoic. "I understand you have chosen to defend yourself." "Indeed. Why? Does someone else want to?" I frowned. "No." "I thought not." He stood up from his chair, approaching the cell door. "Are you sizing up the enemy?" "I am not the prosecutor," I told him. "I am the judge." His grin returned, those hauntingly green eyes tracking my every move. "Bold move." He turned to the little table in his cell. I saw what appeared to be a Chinese Go board, with Shogi and traditional chess pieces scattered along it. As he spoke, he moved a few of them in a twisted game I still fail to comprehend. "I won't make this easy for you," he said. "I don't expect anyone to believe me." "Are you confessing?" "That's not what I said. I said I would not make it easy," he told me, stressing each syllable with another piece moved. "It does not matter, warlock. I will see justice in my courtroom." "Oh, you'll see something," the warlock assured me, cackling darkly. "I promise you that, Dubhan Connolly." I turned to leave, the image of his face slipping from my mind like water through my fingers. I reached the top the staircase when I realized I had never given him my name. I have stayed awake since. Later, 10PM Further disaster. This school may never recover. Queen Irene and King Rosin arrived on time, appropriately dressed in black. I am a native creature of their lands, and showed my deference. I believe they were pleased (as pleased as a mourning parent can be) that I was to preside over the affair. The students that had been allowed in filed into the rows behind the pulpit, all silent as I had never seen them before. Tolsten brought in Neero once everyone was seated. His hands were bound, but he was otherwise free to move. "Judge Connolly," Tolsten prompted. "Headmaster." Tolsten turned to the rest of the room. "Warlock Neero, you are hereby brought to trial under Judge Dubhan Connolly for the murder of Princess Ariella—" Queen Irene burst into tears. King Rosin calmed her. "—for the related assault of several of the Academy's guards," Tolsten continued, uncertain, "and for the assault of several citizens of Staffordshire." The room stayed silent. "How do you plead?" I asked. "Innocent," the warlock answered immediately. "Of everything." "How dare you!" King Rosin leapt to his feet, the Count moved to restrain him should he move further. "My daughter— she is dead because of you!" "Prove it," the warlock said simply. Effectively silenced, the King sat down. "I thought so," said Neero. "I presume you would like to begin, Warlock?" I asked. Neero got up, addressing the crowd. "Your friend is dead," he said, voice flat and matter-of-fact. "Some of your guards are battered up. And as I understand it, Wolverhampton has a bit of a town drunk problem. I wouldn't be surprised if they're all unrelated incidents you're grasping at straws to connect to me." An uproar. Tolsten and I shouted over them to quiet them down. "You absolute b*****d!" Prince Espinosa shouted. Neero grinned at him. "At least my parents know each other," he shot back. Espinosa retook his seat. "That's out of line!" Count Meunier snapped. "If the judge cannot control this courtroom, I move he be dismissed," the warlock said, sounding bored. I pounded my fist against the table. "The defense will refrain from addressing the students of the room. You will speak to me and no one else," I ordered. The warlock shrugged nonchalantly. "Fine." "Master Snow." Tolsten got up. "I speak on the behalf of the bereaved King Rosin and Queen Irene of Ireland." "Oh, was she Irish?" The warlock stared intently at me, his grin still in place. "Doesn't that make you biased?" "If I were biased against you, I would not be tolerating this," I said evenly. "The royalty of Ireland wishes to see justice carried out, and I intend to ensure that," Tolsten went on. "We can't let this serial killer loose." "Present your case," I instructed. Tolsten opened his notebook. "The evening of March 13th, we failed to hear from the perimeter guards on their regular check-ins. We sent the reserve guards to investigate, and failed to hear from them as well. The off-duty guards then came to see, and immediately informed us of a perimeter breach," Tolsten said in his most official voice. "Could've been a wolf," Neero sighed. "Signora Violetta Piazzoni and I went to enforce a mandatory curfew change, as laid out in our safety regulations," Tolsten continued. "We brought the students to the residence halls when Count Sidgeir Meunier, who was flying around the school in search of the breach, returned to us and informed us of a dangerous intruder in the residence hall." "I suppose that was when you got wind of me," the warlock said. Tolsten paused. "You're not denying that you were here." "How else would you have caught me?" Neero asked. Before Tolsten could reply, I raised a hand. "Finish your case, Master Snow. We will hear you in a moment, Warlock." Momentarily rattled, Tolsten picked up where he'd left off. "Signora Piazzoni and Taira Chiyohime arrived to help secure the hall. Count Meunier relayed to us all the information he had about the intruder: A male warlock, named Neero, ransacking the residence halls in search of something or someone." "And what did I find?" Neero asked condescendingly. "The defense will remain silent until we are ready to hear his case," I said. Tolsten glowered at him. "I believe you found Princess Ariella." Count Meunier stood up. "If I may?" Tolsten nodded; the Count took the pulpit. "On my scout around the school, I saw Warlock Neero force his way past the guards, severly cripple the reserve, and escape the off-duty. He headed straight for the residence halls. It didn't take long, he came in the back entrance." Tolsten looked pained. "We've since been resecuring all three entrances to the school, and reinforcing the walls." "How did you recognize the warlock?" I asked. "His insignia, left behind on the dead." He turned back to the assemblage of students and Ariella's family. "I am the professor of history and literature at the Academy Royale, and am reasonably well-read. Warlock Neero is rather well-known in certain circles." The Count produced a book, from which he showed a drawing of the nine-angles, and read: "Warlock Neero rules over the magical underground, and in recent years has been working his way above ground. After his brutal extermination of the curupira in the West, he has been seeking a stronger power to aid him in his conquests." He closed the book. "This was written only five years ago." The courtroom was filled with the sounds of murmuring. I called a halt to it. "Master Snow. Please tell us where the warlock was found and captured," I said. Tolsten swallowed hard. "After a brief fight in which nearly the entire teaching staff took part, we subdued Neero in Princess Ariella's personal bedchambers. She was dead." "Are you sure?" Neero piped up at last. "Or was she merely dying?" "Does it matter?!" the Count snapped. "SHE WAS FOUND," Tolsten said loudly, "with a knife in her chest and her neck broken. She was bleeding profusely and was not breathing. Upon further inspection, we found seven stab wounds, thirteen bruises, and a broken neck." Queen Irene broke down into tears again. The Count escorted her outside the room. "I sent word to the King and Queen, and here we are," Tolsten wrapped up quickly. The room was silent for a moment. "Warlock," I said at last. "Say what you must." "Let's hear it," King Rosin said brusquely. Neero stood up, his blasted grin still firmly in place. "The girl died because I couldn't save her," he said simply. "The guards were drunk and had a fight. And Staffordshire doesn't even remember me." A succinct defense. No one complained, save for his claims. "Couldn't save her?!" Chiyohime snapped. "More like couldn't kill her fast enough! We heard shouts coming from the room, Ariella was screaming for help and— and you were telling her to shut up!" The courtroom again dissolved into chaos. Count Meunier and Queen Irene returned, and through my combined effort with the Count, we brought the noise level down. "I'm sure you would have screamed if I tried to pull a knife from your body as well," Neero said smugly. "Face it. You have no proof it was me." I am loath to admit it, but he was right. The deed had been done before we got inside the room. As much as the evidence pointed his way, there was still something missing. "Judge Connolly?" Tolsten asked. I frowned. "Do you have further proof?" I asked. "What more proof do you need?!" King Rosin demanded. "My daughter lies dead because of this power-hungry warlock!" Neero shrugged again. "I can't help you bring her back. Only a powerful—" All of a sudden, he stopped. Something inside his mind snapped, just visible behind those grassy green eyes. "Warlock?" Tolsten asked. "Seize him," I said quickly. No one reacted fast enough. "SHE'S HERE!" Neero lunged at the royal family, breaking through the icy bonds that held his hands. He clawed wildly at them, the foul green smoke again pouring from his mouth. "THE PRINCESS—" "SEIZE HIM!" I shouted again. The smoke was thick. We could not see. "ARIELLA!" the warlock shouted, a maniacal tone in his voice that had not been there before. "SHE— SHE HAS IT! I MUST HAVE IT! I NEED IT!" The Queen screamed in pain, the King shouted for help. Tolsten was shouting too, the students were panicking, people were running, scrambling over the desks and chairs to find windows and doors— I had no choice. "WARLOCK NEERO ERKENSON!"A thump. He fell to the floor. Prince Espinosa and Princess Melissa opened the windows, the Count kicked open the door. The smoke began to clear, first turning a dark shade of grey. The warlock's body lay on the floor, his green eyes faded to white. "Dubhan—" Tolsten started. "I declare the case a mistrial," I said, leading the students from the room. I have barricaded myself in my quarters. I cannot face them. Tomorrow, I will have to.
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Posted: Fri Jul 13, 2012 6:34 pm
Neutral Ground
Tuesday, March 17th, 1018
2PM Unmitigated disaster. I may have caused Ireland's royal bloodline to forever sever ties with the Academy. But no deaths today. Hurrah. The King and Queen of Ireland met with Tolsten, the Count, and I in Headmaster Tolsten's office. "A mistrial!?" Rosin demanded. "The warlock is clearly guilty!" "Be that as it may, Herr King," I said, patiently facing the brunt of the king's rage. "I cannot change the circumstances of the trial." "The warlock's guilt is not up for debate," King Rosin insisted. "He. Is. Guilty." "You are welcome to believe that, but I must uphold my court of law," I said. "I cannot declare a dead man guilty or not." "And why the sam hell not!?" The Count took Rosin's side in an instant. "Neero was a crazy b*****d who killed a sixteen year old princess. I can see no side of this in which he comes out innocent." "And truth be told, nor can I," I said. "But I cannot pass judgment on a dea—" "ENOUGH!" Queen Irene had spoken at last. "What makes you think yourself above the love we have for our daughter? The man is guilty, lend us some peace and say it is so." I bowed to the Queen. "All my respect, Frau Queen, but I cannot. The man is dead. Take solace in that." Rosin rounded on Headmaster Tolsten. "And you're going to let this stand?!" he shouted angrily. Tolsten shrank back a bit. "King Rosin, believe me, we have all felt the effects of Princess Ariella's death," he said. "But... I'm afraid I stand with Herr Connolly. I trust his judgment, or, lack thereof." The king let out an incomprehensible roar of anger. Queen Irene shouted at me through her tears. "What more do you want to see him guilty— my daughter's word?!" she snapped. "You cannot possibly—" "MY QUEEN, PLEASE," I said, speaking over her. "You must understand the position we have been put in. The Warlock Neero was an impossibly clever fellow, he was not dull enough to be caught in a situation that could compromise him. Granted, I think we threw him off his charted course when we brought him to trial so quickly, but." Rosin and Irene sat down, weeping. The Count glared at me. "You think he was innocent?" the Count growled. "I never said that." I cast a glance at Tolsten, who looked confused. "My opinions lie outside the courtroom. I believe the warlock was solely responsible for the princess's death, and it pains me greatly to see this happen." "Then pass a verdict!" the king bellowed. "It is not our place to judge the dead," I repeated for the tenth time that day. "I beg of you to try to understand. We have power to judge when our quarries still inhabit this earth. But we must all undergo judgment at the hands of angels and demons in heaven and hell. My judgment must stand on this earth, Neero is facing a different court far below us." Tolsten kicked me out of his office while he consoled the king and queen. I have barricaded myself again in my quarters, waiting out the storm until Headmaster Tolsten comes to have a word with me. I fully expect to be dismissed. Later, 7PM Headmaster Tolsten has not dismissed me. I will take this as a little victory. He looked exceptionally grim when he came to see me after the King and Queen took their leave of the school. "I am sorry, Master Snow." He shook his head, wordless. "I did what had to be done," I said. "I know, Dubhan. I don't blame you." Tolsten rubbed his forehead, stressed. "If you hadn't done it, someone would have died. Someone else, someone vastly more important." "Do you think I am wrong?" I asked. Again, he shook his head. "You keep a clear head in the face of everything. I can't... even believe." He groaned, falling into a chair. "If it were me, I wouldn't have let the b*****d open his mouth." I chuckled. "I get the impression that the King and Queen would have preferred that." "Maybe. But we do what we have to where justice is concered. The Academy is neutral, unbiased ground, and that's the way it has to stay. We couldn't afford to show bias in that trial, however it ended." "I had to kill the warlock. There was just no other way. Frau Queen would have died, of that I am certain," I said. "I am too, believe me." He shook his head slowly. "In their own way, I think they're all right with the judgment. I don't think they want to believe that someone killed their daughter." Regardless of whether or not it is right, I will let the King and Queen believe whatever they desire. I cannot pass judgment on this grim affair. Were it not a matter of principle, I would shout to the heavens and hell below that Neero Erkenson was as guilty as Judas. Our system is flawed, I will be the first to admit. But no system is perfect. I have roamed the earth a hundred thousand times over, and there is no perfect way to discern the true committer of every crime. There will always be one mind ahead of the world's curvature, thinking ahead of each new measure we take to catch them. Ariella's body is being transported back to Ireland with her parents. Classes will begin again tomorrow. I expect the students will have questions. No matter what happens at this school, I will always be there to help these children, these crowns of a new age, find the truth.
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