Power Nexus (Vorcian Imperial Chronicles Book 3)

by Taki Drake

  Corda gasped in horror and dropped her book onto the floor. Her face was pale, and she immediately broke out into a cold sweat as speech tumbled from her mouth, “That would be horrible! The whole family is so focused on all of the Waterns being Healers that if Pharyl is thrown out of the Academy, my parents will never forgive me!”

  Turning and looking the young girl squarely in the face, the old Advocate said, “The attack on you was unconscionable. The Security tapes show that he planned and staged it, not only for himself but for his cohorts. It was done deliberately to cause you the maximum damage and embarrassment.

  “The tradition of the Academy is a proud one, stretching back hundreds of years. They have never given a Healer’s certification to someone who so failed to meet the standards demanded from all those that have the training and the capability of working with the human body and brain.”

  Corda’s mouth opened and closed several times before she whispered, “I could leave…”

  The old man’s voice was stern as he responded, “No, and you shouldn’t. The Academy is currently your guardian. They would never permit a victim to leave and keep the one who assaulted her. This is not your fault, Corda, it is all on your brother.”

  Chapter 11 – Hearing and Witness

  Advocate Amity had stayed until well after dark, answering all of the questions that the four of them could come up with. His calm manner and demonstrated knowledge had done a lot to calm Corda’s friends' concern, but the young girl herself was terrified.

  Covering her quaking fear and repeated cold flashes, the young girl crawled into bed as soon as everyone had left her shared room. Listening to Liz prepare for bed, Corda pretended to be asleep when the older girl whispered, “Sleep well.”

  It had been a fragmented, tortured night where flashes of her father’s fury and her mother’s tears made it impossible for Corda to sleep. Stumbling from her bed at the irritating sound of her alarm, Corda had gone through the motions of her morning prep.

  Respectful of her shadowed eyes and unsure of what to say, most of the floor’s occupants were kind enough to either not speak to her or to give her noninvasive words of encouragement. Making it back almost all the way to her room, Hera’s grating voice said, “I hope you say goodbye to your friends before you go into that hearing. Just don’t expect to come back here. The Academy doesn’t have any room for troublemakers.”

  Liz puffed up like she was going to spit fire, but Corda put a hand on her forearm and turned to confront the much taller and older girl herself, saying, “It must be challenging to know that others around you understand things more than you do. I think you’re doing an amazing job of covering your ignorance up.” Immediately, the younger girl continued on to the door to her room.

  Zipping in with her, Liz carefully shut the door before laughing so hard that tears ran down her face. “Corda, that was the best put down that I have ever heard in my life. You ought to bronze that and hang it on the wall.”

  The wholehearted laughter of her roommate drew a smile to Corda’s face, even if it was a tiny and fragile one. Treasuring it like the precious gift that it was, Corda used the warmth of that present to carry her through the seemingly endless hour until they found themselves sitting in the witness room of the Academy’s Tribunal.

  There was a bailiff assigned in the room to prevent them from talking with each other, and each witness sat by themselves, surrounded in an island of uneasy quiet. Corda had glanced around when she sat down, noting a variety of students and Prof. Ryante, as well as other people in Academy Uniforms that were strange to her.

  Shortly before the doors were shut and locked, three Healers in the tabs of Masters and Adepts walked in and immediately sat on the opposite side of the room and with their backs against the wall. Corda recognized one of them, the woman that had overseen most of her treatment, but she was unfamiliar with the other two.

  Once the doors were locked, a flash of Magic slithered through the room and covered the doors, ensuring that the proceedings would be held in a secure environment. Corda heard the insubstantial march of impending danger and doom, and her spirit recoiled in front of it. Swallowing nervously, the young girl gripped her hands together in her lap until her knuckles hurt.

  Advocate Amity was sitting next to her, and the old man placed his hand on hers and gave her a comforting squeeze. Wishing with all of her heart that her grandmother was sitting there in his stead, the young girl was nonetheless grateful for his presence.

  From their discussion the night before, Corda knew that they would be able to hear all of the testimony that happened within the courtroom, so none of them were surprised when the blank wall beside the door to the courtroom dissolved into a vid screen showing the members of the Academy Tribunal sitting down and the bailiff and recorder on either side.

  Since the Academy Tribunal consisted of either the head of each Discipline or their designated representative, there were five members of the Tribunal. The rotating chairman for this month was the Head of the Maker Discipline, and the calm-looking man held the gavel of the Tribunal Chair in his hand with ease.

  Arrayed in front of them, Pharyl sat at the far left in a chair within a box raised slightly from the ground. Three other men, all his approximate age, sat on a bench directly behind him.

  Oh, dear heavens, he is furious, Corda thought to herself. Experience and pain pushed out her next thought, which was, He will take that out on somebody else, hurting them until he has transferred all of his discomforts onto them. I hope that whoever it is, is strong.

  Bright spangled shards of pain ripped through Corda’s heart when she saw that beside the Advocate at the table next to her brother sat their father. Ealtert’s face smoothed over into a political mask, but Corda’s knowledgeable eyes saw the telltale actions that betrayed how truly angered he was. Her heart raced, knowing that her parent was a short distance away from an explosion, and when that happened, pain and suffering would result.

  The young girl’s eyes whipped around the rest of the scene and saw that the witness stand was set up and that there were no other supporters for either her brother or his codefendants behind him. Corda closed her eyes in teary relief, thinking, At least Mother is not here.

  The court hearing had been convened, and the testimony was being given. The first witness that the Tribunal Chair called was one of the Healers that Corda did not know. The man began to walk into the room when Pharyl’s Advocate stood up, stating, “Honored Tribunal, we object to the hearing based on the fact that this is a family matter instead of one that should concern the Academy. I have a motion here to dismiss this hearing and allow it to be handled within the family.”

  Without a pause, the Tribunal Chair hit his gavel onto the desk and stated, “Denied. This occurred on Academy grounds, and it involved a student enrolled in the Academy executing an attack on another student at the Academy.”

  The Advocate, obviously a highly paid and expensive one from his garb and his posture of assurance, exclaimed in surprise, “Internal family matters are outside of Academy jurisdiction. There is no basis for keeping this hearing within the Academy.”

  Smiling thinly, the Tribunal Chair said with a flattened voice, “All Academy students are signed over to the authority of the Academy, superseding all parental rights and controls. This is written within the charter of the Academy, and I am positive, Advocate Jollede that you are aware of this, so please do not waste the time of this Tribunal with any additional spurious claims or attempts at derailing this hearing. If you continue on, I will declare you in contempt and remove your ability to speak for your defendant.”

  Pharyl’s Advocate sat down quickly and shook his head at Corda’s father as the man tried to argue with him in a low tone. The Healer resumed his walk to the witness chair, but Corda saw that the man’s expression had turned from a calm neutral one to what looked like a coiled spring of tension.

  Sitting down, the Healer identified himself and stated that he had been the Triage Heal
er at the time of the incident. The Tribunal asked him what condition the people that were examined by his team had been in. The man smoothly went into details on the eight students that had been seen by his group. Most of them had minor injuries, consistent with a general melee where people were bumped or tripped over.

  Further questioning drilled down to the specifics of Corda’s condition at the time of examination. In a very clinical tone, the Healer outlined the damage to Corda’s body. He went into great lengths about her broken shoulder, cracked clavicle, concussion, skull fracture, and broken spine.

  Pharyl’s Advocate rose on cross-examination and tried to loom over the Healer in his witness box, moving into the man’s personal space and demanding in a strident tone for his qualifications and certifications. Without a pause, the man smoothly laid out an impressive list of credentials, refusing to be thrown off by the Advocate's aggressive manner. Unable to disconcert the witness, the Advocate sat down in disgust only to have Pharyl’s father start arguing with him in a heated whisper.

  The Head of the Healer Discipline at the Academy had one additional question for the witness, asking, “In general, what was Corda Watern’s condition?”

  The witness responded, “She was very close to death.”

  Chapter 12 – Judgment

  Released, the Healer left the room, and the parade of the rest of the witnesses began. Questioning the other two Healers about Corda’s treatment and recovery, Pharyl’s Advocate repeatedly tried to throw them off their testimony or divert the Tribunal into other inquiries. All of his efforts failed, and Corda’s father became increasingly enraged.

  Moving without pause onto some of the other witnesses that Corda was not familiar with, the Tribunal next called one of the Academy Security Supervisors. Looking surprised, Ealtert Watern was muttering furiously to his son’s Advocate. The legal representative’s repeated shaking of his head in negation pushed the infuriated man almost to his breaking point.

  Without any basis for an objection to the testimony, the Tribunal had the Security Head explain that they had immediately pulled the tapes that covered the hallways and had locked them against modification. Furthermore, they had replicated the media in several off-site storage areas to preserve the validity of the data.

  The intense Head of the Artist Discipline interrupted his recounting and demanded, “I understand that we can look at the recording. What I want to know is a summary of what it showed. If there’s any question or ambiguity, we will review it later but right now, blast it, I want to know what happened.”

  The man responded calmly, “The witness recounting of the attack is fully supported by the monitoring videos. We even pulled the two-hour period before the attack and saw that the accused, including the secondary defendants, had set up the ambush point before the actual assault. There were spells cast on the wall for concealment, and the wall that was used to smash Corda Watern’s body against was spelled to cause maximum damage and pain.”

  Pharyl burst into speech, screeching, “You can’t know that! There is no way of tracking a spell like that. We made sure of it before we ever thought about doing it.”

  Ealtert yelled, “Shut up, you idiot! You were told not to say a word!”

  Settling back sullenly, Pharyl slammed his body against the support of the chair and crossed his arms in front of him. Glowering around the room, his eyes were fiery, and his mouth was set in a vicious slash. Corda felt a sense of sorrow to her surprise, and thought, How small and petty is he? Almost doomed in a swing of hurtful action and never feeling or being part of anything important. I almost feel sorry for him.

  The Tribunal Chair turned to the Security person and asked, “Is there any difficulty in detecting the spells?”

  The answer was straightforward, “No, sir. It is something that a first-year student could execute.”

  Moving right along, the Tribunal called the other Security witnesses one after another. Recounting the witness statements and the forensic evidence, the Chair pinched the bridge of his nose and asked, “Let me get this straight, we have video and Magical evidence that this was a deliberate ambush designed to cause damage to another student. The attack was carried out by a 6-foot-2-inch man two weeks short of his 18th birthday, and the victim was a 75-pound, 5-foot tall barely 13-year-old.”

  The current witness, the third Security Armsman that had been called to the witness stand, agreed totally. Pharyl’s Advocate was silent because there was not anything to say or challenge.

  Shortly after that, the court was adjourned while the members of the Tribunal went into private consultation.

  Corda felt like a limp old rag, emotionally ripped apart and frayed around the edges. Now that the main testimony was over, the bailiff was not enforcing separation on those in the witness room, and Corda was immediately comforted by her friends.

  The young girl felt the presence of someone else and looked up to see the Healer that had been the first one that had dealt with her after her injuries. Touching the side of her face with a gentle hand, the man said, “I was so worried because I thought we lost you. It is only due to your fighting spirit and your inner strength that you made it through. Please remember that.” Without another word, the man went back to sit with the other Healers.

  Corda stared after him, lost in thought, and letting his words sink into her soul.

  Before they could have any more discussion or Corda could slip even deeper into her depression, the bailiff called for the court to reconvene. Eyes whipping to Advocate Amity, Liz demanded, “Is that good or bad? This is much faster than you told us that they would make a decision.”

  The old man answered, “I think, I believe, that this is very good, but we have to wait and see.”

  Turning to Corda, her grandmother’s friend spoke as if she were the only person in the world, saying, “Prepare yourself, my dear. No matter what the ruling is, you know that there are going to be hurtful consequences. I will do everything I can to soften them, but no one can prevent all of the corollary damages.”

  In a soft voice, Corda responded, “I know that, sir. Thank you for all of your efforts.”

  The Tribunal’s gavel slammed echoing through the courtroom and slicing through the speakers of the witness room. The Tribunal Chair announced, “It is the finding of this Tribunal that Pharyl Russon Watern carried out an unprovoked attack on another student, deliberately and in a premeditated fashion attempted to cause her either irreparable or fatal damage. It is also the finding of this Tribunal that he has shown himself fatally flawed for any type of position in the Healer Discipline.”

  Corda’s father stood up and roared, “You have no right to deny my son. The Waterns have been Healers for centuries, and you will not deny us our birthright!”

  Refusing to give an inch, the Tribunal Chair directed a steely gaze at the shouting man, stating in a cold voice, “If you cause a disruption in this courtroom, you will be gagged. None of your influence affects the Academy.”

  “I am Healer Secondus, and I will immediately ask the Healer Primus to remove the backing for Healers to this institution. You will not condemn my son for that travesty of a daughter.”

  Corda’s body shook as if she had taken a heavy blow and she tried to turn away in tears, but the old Advocate’s hand on hers and the immediate embrace of Gerald combined with the crooning comfort of her roommate and other friend gave the young girl a float to cling to in the storm of her pain and sorrow.

  Addressing his remarks to the enraged father, the Head of the Healer Discipline at the Academy informed Ealtert in a dry voice, “This has already been discussed with Healer Primus. We have his full support, and I suggest you tread very carefully around this issue. Of course, you’re welcome to ignore my advice.”

  Gritting his teeth so tightly that the speakers picked up the grinding sound, Ealtert sat down again. Scooting slightly away from his client’s father, Advocate’s chair created an audible scraping sound, making his opinion known to everyone there without sayin
g a word.

  Pharyl once again burst into speech, demanding, “Father! You said you could fix this! It’s not fair that I have to listen to them.”

  Ealtert remained silent, his clenched jaw and heightened color warning of a volcanic rage that would explode at some point. Pharyl glanced wildly around the room looking for an ally but found no one, and his panting fear permeated the air even through the walls of the courtroom.

  The Tribunal Chair continued as if all the drama had disappeared, saying, “It is the finding of this Tribunal that Pharyl Russon Watern has demonstrated that he has no adherence to the Healers’ Oath and has abused his power and his training. Before being expelled from the Academy, he will have his ability to channel Healing Magic burned from his brain and will be forever banned from any formal certification in the Magical Disciplines of Barkin Prime.”

  Pharyl screamed and began to cry while Ealtert Watern roared in frustrated rage. As their combined emotions hit Corda’s ears, the young girl’s overstressed systems collapsed, and she fainted.

  Cushioned by caring arms, Corda never heard her father scream, “You had better never set foot home again, Corda Devlin Watern. I may not be able to disown you while you are in the Academy, but you have no place, no home with us.”

  Chapter 13 – Focus and Dedication

  One moment Corda was wrapped in a dark, familiar cloud of unconsciousness, and the next, it was as if a switch had been pulled, and she opened her eyes to see the familiar ceiling of the infirmary. Trying a careful breath, the young girl realized that she did not hurt and wondered how long she had been wrapped in the shadows of something deeper than sleep.

  “Corda, my sweet one, are you awake again?” The voice was shaky and thready, but the young girl knew that beloved voice.

  “Nona? Is it really you?”

  Suddenly, her grandmother was there. Silvery, swirling eyes stared at her, and the age-bronzed face of her grandmother came closer. The old woman’s eyes were red, and Corda could see the tracks of tears on her face. The young girl’s heart lurched, and she raised a shaking hand to touch her Nona’s cheek, “Please don’t cry, Nona. It’s not your fault that I was stupid.”