Bloodless

by Roberto Vecchi

  Moments later, it opened again. A single Elf emerged this time, but unlike the previous four who wore robes of differing hues of yellow, he wore the traditional blacks of the Lorekeepers. He was Lorekeeper Siglariel, and he was formidable. Most notably because of his Elven Indoctrinations, a set of instructional manuals outlining a temporal progression of teaching The Way of the Stars to students, he had become known as the foremost expert and religious interpreter of the Star Doctrines. As such, he was often times asked to render judgement on severe matters where lesser wisdom would potentially leave room for interpretations beyond the ruling. That he was asked to preside over this trial was no surprise. It was actually fully expected. However, that expectation ended when he did not assume his position on the judge’s dais. But if he, the most celebrated Lorekeeper in elven history, was not to be entrusted with arguably the most important if not controversial trial in Elven history, then who would be? Surely it would not be anyone with less influence or tenure? As such, they watched him sit down at the accuser’s table, alone.

  Next to enter was the normal contingency of House Representatives. Each house was present which was significant in that only those houses who agreed with the necessity for a trial would be there to support it. All of the designated house seats were filled by their ruling Lords and two of his selected council members. Well, all except for those of House Dordrosis. There was an empty space where those seats should have been. Unlike every trial before, the house representatives were not dressed in the colors of their own Houses. Just like the witnesses for the accusers, they were dressed in clothes reflective of a membership to House Hinthial. Both Eriboth and Lady Glinovia looked to each other exchanging a worry that was greater than simply a concern for themselves. Indeed, seeing the individual house representatives all wearing the colors of a single house suggested there was much more to worry about.

  And then he felt it just as the large double doors of the main entrance swung open. He need not visually identify the three individuals now walking to the head of the throne room to know who they were, or rather, what they were. When one encounters the utter evil of a being that is the genesis of all evil, one does not readily forget it. Esthinor. Both he and Lady Glinovia silently watched as the three figures dressed in the ornate robes of the University of Knowledge slowly walked from the main doors to sit at the judge’s table in front and facing the two litigation tables. His attention was firmly rooted on Esthinor, the wizard sitting in the central chair which was slightly raised above the other two, so much so that Queen Glinovia had to grab his arm and almost lift him to stand when King Hinthial entered from the door directly behind the throne. Eriboth, however, never took his focus off of the evil in front of him. When the King was seated in his throne, Esthinor deliberately stood and turned to face him. A slight nod indicated that the Grand Wizard should begin the proceedings.

  In a booming voice, obviously enhanced by some sort of magic, Esthinor began, “It is my understanding, Eriboth, that you have refused the absolution of your transgressions against King, Elf, and Stars. Is this correct?” were the words he heard physically, but mentally; he heard a whole different statement.

  It is a pity you did not accept Lord Hinthial’s offer. I would have enjoyed seeing your queen truly break before she is hung.

  “Yes,” he answered audibly while he continued the mental conversation with Esthinor.

  There is nothing you can to do break her now. She has accepted redemption from One Who Is Greater.

  “Very well. You have been charged with treason against King, Stars and nation. How do you plead to these charges?” asked Esthinor.

  How little you know and understand. But that does not concern me. I will give you this one last chance to accept a fate of fame and praise. Accept it now, renounce all that you know, and pledge fealty to King and Elf, or you will have sealed the fate of not only yourself, but your queen as well.

  “To what specific charges are you referring? My knowledge of past events has led me to believe that I am charged with a plethora of transgressions. How can I be expected to determine my own guilt or innocence based on the vagueness of your accusations?”

  The Queen is now the property of He Who Stands Against you. You cannot harm her.

  “My Dear Eriboth, I do not issue these charges against you. I am simply an outside voice to lend gravity and logic to these emotionally charged times. I can assure you; I hold no personal stake in the outcome of these proceedings,” answered Esthinor. “But to your question, you stand accused of betraying the Kingdom by the bedding the Queen, you stand accused of murdering the King himself when confronted with these charges, you stand charged with colluding with the former Queen Glinovia and the Lady Soliana to plot against the King. Do you understand those charges?”

  It matters not. Both of your fates have been decided long before the necessary charade that is this proceeding.

  “If by understanding you mean to suggest I understand they have been fabricated to hide the true treachery of Lord Hinthial,” but before he could continue, he was interrupted by a large amount of shouting from those gathered to witness. Everyone, except King Hinthial and Esthinor himself, were caught up in the incredulous accusation Eriboth had just introduced.

  You know I speak the truth, said Eriboth mentally.

  “Hold your anger!” boomed Esthinor, clearly making use of magic to elevate his voice beyond the ruckus shouting. As the amplified din softened and again met with the control of the Grand Wizard, he continued, “If you were able to produce a shred of evidence to support your accusations, I would entertain hearing you further. However, as I am quite confident you cannot, we will continue with these proceedings as originally planned. Since your plan is to attest to both of your innocence, we will begin with the initial statements by both councils. It is my understanding that you have both chosen to represent yourselves in this matter?”

  Truth? What is truth? I know you speak the accurate representation of events, but that is not truth. What have you to offer to change the perceptions of those around you; for they will not be swayed by your account, however correct it will be. But rather, they will see what they want to see and believe what they wish to believe. This is the truth as it has become, my friend: The swayable perceptions of individuals to align with their own emotional ideals perpetuated by their own mortally flawed logic. Nothing else exists in their lives except the subjectively alterable realities of their own fragile convictions of value and worth, which, it seems, is intimately linked to whatever they feel best serves their ever-malleable identities

  “Yes,” he answered for both he and Queen Glinovia. The normally outspoken queen sensed something flowing beneath the surface of the rather shallow interaction between Eriboth and Grand Wizard Esthinor and decided to remain silent. Indeed, their conversation was much more meaningful than what was initially perceivable.

  Yes, that is their truth as it stands now. But when I introduce them to the objective truth of a Love so great rendering your interferences minuscule, they will see the power of having a truly objective identity; an identity that is steeped in the Holy Power of a blood much deeper than the fathoms of your hatred. A Power that renders all else obsolete and dissolves away all concerns except those to perpetuate that Love. A love so marvelous that all things are washed clean and made pure to the undeniable persuasion that is Jesus.

  “So be it,” was all Esthinor said. He then looked to Lorekeeper Siglariel indicating the elder Elf begin his opening statement. And begin he did. There was a reason he was revered as the foremost authority on all things liturgical in the Elven culture. Whereas Eriboth was legendary for his blade and unfailing artistic expression, Siglariel was equally so with logic and all things concerned with evidence and proof. He was nothing less than masterful as he verbally assaulted the case to prove Eriboth’s and Queen Glinovia’s innocence concerning all of their charges. It is often said that when one door closes, another opens. But whoever issued such a claim had obviously never hear
d how conclusively adept the Lorekeeper was a slamming not just all doors that were opened, but at preventing those which had yet to be opened from ever being rendered even slightly ajar. When his case had almost completed, there was only one remaining witness to call upon, not that there was any real necessity to drive the dagger of their guilt further into the case of their innocence. But Siglariel was nothing if not complete. And to complete his case, he needed one final testimony.

  As the hooded elf made his way to the examiner’s booth, Eriboth thought he recognized the fluidity of his movements, but he was not sure. He extended his sense to determine the identity of the mystery elf, but he could form no attachment with the elf’s identity. He looked to Esthinor who was looking back at him with a small grin on his face.

  There will be no influence from you on this matter.

  “Can you tell us the event you witnessed on the night in question?” asked Siglariel. As the elf removed the hood covering his face, Eriboth knew instantly who it was. Hundolis. The elven guard whose life he had saved was now testifying to Eriboth’s guilt based on events that had never happened. As Eriboth “looked” to see the young guard’s eyes, he could see the sadness in them, the remorse, but also the resignation of guilt to the burden he was going to carry for falsifying testimony. Testimony that would seal the fate of the one who had given him life.

  There is nothing you can do, Eriboth. So small is your understanding of my influence that you cannot possibly stand against me.

  When Siglariel indicated he was waving his right to conclude his case, Esthinor looked to Eriboth and asked him if he wished to make a concluding statement. To everyone’s surprise, Eriboth denied his right as well. There was nothing he could say in this moment that would possibly change its outcome.

  “Very well,” responded Esthinor. “Because of the seriousness of these charges, I am prepared to render judgement immediately.” This statement caused a rather appreciative response from all the elves present who were normally well known for the length of their legal deliberations following the trial portion of legal cases. Many times, the length of time the judge required to reach a decision would leak into weeks, and on a few very serious occasions, bleed into months. But such was not the case today quite possibly because King Hinthial would not allow such patience to be exercised, but more likely because Esthinor held the marionette strings over the entire elven nation. “It is in my judgement,” continued Esthinor, “that the defendants be found guilty of all charges set against them. Furthermore, let it be directed that their sentence be carried out directly following the conclusion of these proceedings, for such is the demanded recompense for the gravity of atrocities the have committed.”

  As he completed speaking, as if the whole thing had been planned, a large contingency of guards rushed in, grabbed the two convicted traitors, and lead them through the main doors of the throne room into the central interior courtyard. Gathered there was no less than a vast majority of the elves living within the castle grounds, as well as many of those living within the exterior boundaries of the Elven city. There were even elves in attendance from the other cities within the Great Green Forest. As he was being roughly guided to a central dais constructed of all wood, he looked to his right and found the little girl whose stone he had allowed to strike him. She was different now. Less innocent. She was still small, but she had grown in her desire to see justice merited out regardless of true innocence or guilt. He heard her laughing and cheering along with her parents.

  As they climbed the steps to stand on the wooden platform, they could see a large stump secured to the center of the stage behind which was standing a very large elf wearing a black hood. He was dressed in the flowing block robes familiar with executioners representing a starless night, the final voyage all elves must take. Next to ascend the steps, to a rousing amount of cheering was King Hinthial. Aside from Eriboth, Princess Glinovia, the executioner, and finally King Hinthial, there were no other elves present on the dais.

  As the King held up his arms, the gathered mob of elves, numbering in the thousands, all hushed into a silence deeper than the dawning sun. And he held them there, on the strings of his forthcoming words, as if he was preparing them to more thoroughly appreciate the silence of finality. When he was satisfied with the elevated expectancy of the present throng, he addressed them, “Elves from all reaches of the Great Green Forrest will hear the reverberations of today’s righteous conclusion! For it will draw to closure the darkest time in our whole of existence. Today, on this very block of wood, do we endeavor to remove any and all doubts of our hard-fastened dedication to The Stars. There is nothing now that stands in our way of preserving the constancy of our way of life, our Way of The Stars! For as the axe of judgement falls bringing the reality of a starless sky to two of the greatest traitors to live within our lands, it will usher in a new level of light emanating from our hallowed city. From this day, let the light that is Meckthenial shine more brightly than it ever has. Let that light shine and let all of Avendia bear witness to our greatness!”

  The crowd erupted into a great bellowing of agreement and jubilation at the conclusion of King Hinthial’s speech. Six guards climbed the steps, two of them grabbing Queen Glinovia, two grabbing Eriboth, and the other two taking up place on either side of the king. Princess Glinovia was first to be led to the wooden stump.

  As she was, she looked back to Eriboth who said, “Remember who you are.”

  As she was positioned in front of the wood block and then forced to kneel by a rather forceful blow to the back of her legs, Eriboth closed his eyes, and prayed. So silently was his prayer and so rapturous was the crowd, that none in attendance, not even Esthinor who had quietly taken a place behind the king, could hear his words.

  “My King, I have never asked for something that is against Your Will. But today, now, I ask that even if it is not in Your Will, You allow Queen Glinovia, one still so young in Your Grace, to be filled with it to the dissolving of anything that would harm her. Allow her to see Your Love as powerfully as You allowed me to see it. Let her be filled from head to toe, from soul to heart, with the revelation that is You!” He began to cry as he continued, “My Lord, as I do all things through Your Love, I ask this in confidence that it will be done, for such is the Greatness of Your dedication to Your Children. Be with her, Jesus, as you were with me.”

  When he opened his eyes, though he could not see, he knew Queen Glinovia was bent over with her head squarely fastened to the wooden stump. He knew the executioner was about to lift his axe, attempting to draw upon the righteous judgment of the Stars, and he knew she was looking at him. Yet, in spite of the terrible moment just out of the present’s reach, he sensed no fear in her. Instead, he saw a faint white light centered somewhere close to her stomach begin to grow. From this light, he felt a correspondingly growing warmth. The kind of warmth one never feels on the skin, but embraces with one’s soul. The kind of warmth that was born from the revelation of truth, objective truth, centering on one’s identity as part of the One True Kingdom and heir to all the benevolence of immortality. His eyes continued to cry, but his soul was given to rejoice for he knew she was experiencing the utter surety of being broken, bonded, and blessed as one of his King’s own. And he knew that however final her mortality would be in the split second it took for the axe to drop; she would be released to an immortality beyond human or elven comprehension. She was with her King; but greater still, He was with her. Now, in this moment as the axe cut through more than air, He was with her, and all was good.

  It was only moments after when the other two guards began escorting Eriboth to stand in the very footsteps the queen had just stood. He was in a daze and offered no resistance to their harsh handling of him as they traversed the short distance to his finality. He heard the cheering from the crowd grow quieter in anticipation of a second rendering of judgement as the executioner elevated his pandering. He felt the small sting to the back of his legs as the guard sought to force him into a pos
ition of prostration. He felt the hands of the guards aid in positioning his head in the correct location, and he felt the strap of leather securing his head in place, tighten. The executioner stepped into position, gripped his heavy axe, and looked to King Hinthial. The King hesitated momentarily. The crowd silenced. The King nodded. The axe lifted.

  Poh

  (Hope)

  There was so much yet to consider. If they did not accept Lord Montage’s proposition to allow them to remain within his lands until such a time as they were ready to move into the limits and protection of the city proper, the next closest potential refuge was another month away in another province entirely. However, as daunting as the task of creating an environment within which her refugees would be able to survive through the winter in the valley suggested by Lord Montage was undoubtedly going to be, she was slowly acknowledging that they had no other choice. Though her refugees had done admirably well during their journey from the Stone Keep, a journey during the cold winter months was altogether different. Food would be incredibly scarce. Water, should the air get cold enough to freeze the small streams and tributaries of the larger rivers, would become equally so. Shelter would be almost impossible as there was nothing to shelter them from the freeze of the air itself.

  Under the tutelage of Psumayn, she had been confident in her ability to lead a well drilled military force on a prolonged march under any circumstance, over any terrain, and during any season. But these were not hardened and well-trained soldiers. As much as their trust in her and resulting discipline to execute her instructions had improved, they were still grossly underprepared to even think about attempting to undertake a journey of this magnitude. They had no supply line. They had no stored supplies, nor did they possess the equipment to do so. As she lay awake, looking up to the starless clarity of her tent, she had resolved to accept Lord Montage’s proposal. There was no other choice.