by Rick Field
The two shared a look, nodded, and vanished into a nonverbal shadow spell that hid them from sight almost immediately.
Liane turned to walk to Amy, who was stirring now that the unknown woman's defeat had broken the spell. Just as the younger girl sat upright, Liane's core gave out, the red haze dropping away. Pain lashed through her chest as her core fused into an inoperable ball of misery, and the full realization of what she had done hit her.
She managed to stagger to a nearby tree before losing her dinner.
“My Lady?” Milor asked gently, placing one hand on her heaving back.
“My Lord,” she whispered, shaking.
“I must thank you for standing with me,” he said, still on the same tone, as she straightened out and tried to surreptitiously wipe her mouth. “I heard the offer made to you. Two times you had the chance to walk away, yet you did not.”
“I could not abandon a friend in need, My Lord,” she whispered, haltingly. “We must report this attack.”
Milor nodded hesitatingly. “I must report to the Lord Master what happened here,” he said, voice halting.
“My Lord?”
“I am sorry I cannot explain, My Lady. Due to the Rules of Equality I cannot explain why we were attacked, nor why they were interested only in me,” he said, voice steeling.
She stiffened. Her Assistant had been attacked. She had been attacked. And now he refused to explain!? Her magic, the big mass of pain and hurt in her chest, trembled. Heat seeped through cracks in its fused surface. She let out a deep breath. “Very well, My Lord. I am not happy, but will accept your explanation. For now.” She looked at Amy.
“I am alright, Proctor. It appears I was merely rendered unconscious,” she said before Liane was able to say anything. The older girl gave a nod.
“Let's go to the Academy. My Lord Milor has a report to make,” Liane then said, turning, and starting to walk. Her act was brave. It was the only way she could hide the fact that her body felt weak and her magic was down for the count.
“My Lady?”
“My Lord?” Liane asked, wishing that she could lift one eyebrow in question.
“May I ask why you are still accompanying me? After all, it is obvious that I am a danger to you, yet I am unable to explain why.”
Liane was silent for a few seconds. “Regardless of your hidden background, you are still my friend, My Lord. I will accompany you as far as I can. They may not be the only assassins,” she finally answered.
“Thank you, My Lady.”
She dipped her head. “You're welcome, My Lord.”
“May I ask what you hit your opponent with?” he asked a few moments later, obviously unable to contain his curiosity. Amy perked up, it sounded like an interesting spell if Milor needed to ask about it.
“I used transmutation, My Lord,” Liane answered after a few moments' thought. “It is deceptively easy to transmute the dihydrogen oxide in human blood into dihydrogen dioxide.”
He kept looking at her, and lifted his one eyebrow in that infuriating gesture of his. She sighed. “I turned some of the water in her blood into hydrogen peroxide.” He remained silent. “Bleach,” she finally explained.
Milor blinked twice, and looked over his shoulder at the corpse they were leaving behind. “No wonder she screamed, My Lady,” he whispered. Swallowing, he turned back to her. “I do believe we will need to make haste. I do not like the idea of someone finding our opponents' body.”
Liane nodded, and pushed some more speed from her weak body.
It wasn't until her friend had summoned the Lord Master and entered his office with him that Liane finally decided to return to their rooms.
The moment the door fell shut behind them, Liane collapsed, bonelessly, onto her bed.
“Proctor!?” Amy exclaimed, suddenly at her side. “Are you alright?”
Wearily, Liane nodded, and slowly rolled over to her back. “I will need to rely on you, Assistant,” she muttered. “I pushed more magic than I could safely handle.”
Amy, still looking worried, placed her hand on the nightstand and ordered a bowl of cold water and a cloth from the kitchens. “I thought so,” she said when she received the items. Slowly, she dabbed the cool cloth against Liane's face, washing away the sweat and tears that stained it. “When you explained that you invoked transmutation, I knew something must be wrong, Proctor.”
Liane nodded, smiling softly at the careful wipes of the cloth against her face and forehead. “Transmutation doesn't normally work against people, I know. I can overcome it when angered, but the cost is dramatic.”
The older girl sighed deeply. “My core is damaged, Amy,” she said. “I will not be able to cast magic for days. Last time, I managed to hide it, but now we are in the middle of the school year. I will need to rely on you to cast for me. We'll hide it as me testing you.”
The young Assistant nodded, always game for a challenge. “Of course, Proctor. And should you want it, you know you can always-”
“No,” Liane said, interrupting the younger girl. “I will not use magic from you through the bond. I have seen the results of that. I will never descend to that level.”
Amy remained silent, and Liane fell asleep not two minutes later, never even bothering to change out of her clothes. She was too tired and in too much pain to care.
It was the next day that she got her next surprise, when the Lord Master himself invited her to his office.
When the Lord Master asked, one went, and so Liane hurried as much as Decorum allowed.
“Good morning, My Lady,” the Lord Master greeted her when she entered his office after being admitted. “Please be seated. I trust you are well?”
“I have been better, My Lord,” Liane answered truthfully, sitting down in the empty chair facing his desk. Amy stepped behind it, her position as an Assistant. “Yesterday's events were... unexpected.”
The man was silent for a few moments, studying her. “Regrettably, I cannot explain what has happened, for the Rules of Equality forbid me. This goes for the Lord Milor Lightningcrafter as well, unfortunately.”
She bit back her urge to sigh, and nodded once. “I understand, My Lord. Although my curiosity is not happy, I do understand. “
“I am glad that you understand, My Lady,” he told her. “Unfortunately, due to the unfortunate conclusion of yesterday's events, you will be asked to give evidence. Tomorrow afternoon, at two, you will be expected to give evidence before a panel of Adjudicators.”
Liane swallowed. She had not considered the legal trouble she could be in. She had taken a life outside of an honorable duel, in a common street fight, almost. Although she had acted in defense of herself, her Assistant, and her friend, she had still taken life where it was not hers to take.
“Due to circumstances beyond your knowledge, covered by the Rules of Equality, it will be highly unlikely that you will be detained, My Lady. You need not worry. The Lord Milor Lightningcrafter has already given evidence, so this is likely to be nothing more than a mere formality,” the Lord Master went on, as if he did not notice her suddenly pale complexion and panicking gaze.
She swallowed deeply as his words penetrated. “May I ask how My Lord Milor Lightningcrafter knew to contact you so quickly, and how it can be that he has already given evidence, seeing as barely 14 hours have passed since the unfortunate events?”
“You may ask, My Lady, but unfortunately the answer to those questions is, once again, covered by the Rules of Equality,” he replied.
She was not happy with that particular answer, either. Just what was her friend's secret? “I understand, My Lord,” she answered levelly. “I will be at the court building tomorrow afternoon for my appointment with the Adjudicators.”
“I know you are unhappy with the answers you are receiving, especially as your Assistant and yourself have been placed in danger. Please understand that all possible measures are being taken to make sure these events do not repeat themselves.”
She blinked. Th
is meant that Milor could be attacked again! This was getting more serious by the minute... her friend had always had a mysterious past, but now it seemed that past was likely to get him killed, and get anyone killed that was close to him.
Her right fist balled. Her magic was down for the count at the moment, so her emotions were more level than normal, but she still felt anger over that thought. Milor was her friend. She was not about to let him get killed.
“I understand, My Lord,” she answered, understanding that he had, in effect, been trying to warn her of possible repetition. “I will place my trust in the measures taken.”
He dipped his head, understanding her own hidden meaning. She was not about to let this scare her away from her friend. “Then I wish you good luck, My Lady,” the Lord Master said.
“Thank you, My Lord,” she said, understanding a dismissal when she heard one and standing up. Her Assistant, who had been patiently waiting behind her chair, stepped aside to follow her.
The following day, she was at the court building precisely on time for her appointment. Upon entry into the imposing stone building, she had registered her name and had immediately been directed to one of the interrogation rooms.
Amy needed to remain outside. Interrogations were intensely private.
Liane entered an unremarkable room, with just one horizontal window stretching across the top half of the far wall to allow in light. As the window did not even reach a third of the way down from the ceiling, it would be impossible for anyone outside to look into the room and see or report on anything that went on inside.
Three imposing figures sat behind a large table, each covered in long robes of various colors, their faces and identities hidden by the hoods they wore.
Nobody could know who the Adjudicators were. Impartiality had to be maintained.
“Please be seated, My Lady,” the center figure spoke, motioning to the lone chair on the other side of the table. The figure's voice was distorted, making it impossible for Liane to even determine if the figure was male or female.
Liane sat.
“You will be questioned under truth serum, My Lady,” the figure on the left spoke, producing a bottle out of an inner pocket of the large robes. The hand was covered in a dark glove, preventing it from being identified as either male or female.
Liane's curiosity was peaked, and she grudgingly admitted that nothing had been left to chance.
The bottle was emptied into a conjured glass, and placed in front of her. “Please drink, My Lady,” the third figure, on the right, spoke, motioning to the glass.
Still not knowing whether to address the figures as either My Lord or My Lady, Liane took the glass, and sipped from it. The taste was strange, as if she were drinking syrupy water of some kind.
She drank down the rest of the glass, and felt really calm all of a sudden.
“Please state your name, My Lady,” the center figure spoke, suddenly holding a pen. It seemed the questioning had started.
“Liane, the MagicWarper,” she answered. “My Lord,” she tacked on. None of the figures reacted to her address.
“We must confirm you are under truth serum. Your answer will not be recorded, and will never leave this room,” the figure on the left spoke. “is your virtue still intact?”
Liane blinked. “It is, My Lord,” she answered.
“Please tell us the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you,” the figure on the right asked.
She answered without hesitation, as if it didn't even occur to her to either lie or to hesitate.
“I showed my Proctor's in-progress masterpiece to my friend, ignoring the rules of decency. My Proctor caught me while demonstrating the device to my friend. We were alone, unsupervised, in the room I shared with my Proctor. She proceeded to check my virtue. In front of my friend.”
The three figures nodded. “You are under truth serum,” the center figure spoke. “Were you engaged in an altercation the day before yesterday?”
“I was, My Lord,” Liane answered.
“Did this debacle end in the death of the Lady Doria Firemaster?”
“It did, My Lord.”
“Please explain in your own words what happened,” the third figure asked.
Liane explained how she and Milor had been walking back from dinner, how they had been ambushed, and how she had to fight to defend herself and her unconscious Assistant. How she had been offered leave, and how she had refused, as her friend needed her help. She ended with the threats made against the life of her Assistant.
“We now have the statements of both yourself and the Lord Milor Lightningcrafter. We must now receive the reply from the aggrieved party. Please be ready at 3pm, you will be required to join us and the other witnesses for the necromantic rituals.”
Liane nodded, and made to stand. “If you wish, you can remain here, My Lady. The truth serum will work for close to half an hour still. If you wish to leave, please remain with close friends or people that you do not mind telling the unvarnished truth to.”
She nodded. “Thank you, My Lord,” she said, standing as the Adjudicators filed out. After admitting Amy into the room, Liane closed the door and had her Assistant re-seal it. Her magic was recuperating, but it was still not reliable.
“I have had my interview, Assistant,” the older girl explained to her Assistant. “I must now remain here until the truth serum stops working. There is no antidote, and I have no intention of telling my deepest secrets.”
Amy nodded while debated asking a personal question anyway. Liane shook her head. “Do not try it, Assistant.”
The younger girl pouted slightly. “Besides,” Liane went on. “You will witness a necromantic ritual in half an hour. I have never witnessed one myself; I do believe you will find it interesting and educational.”
“Yes, Proctor,” the girl answered, suddenly seeming a lot more interested.
Precisely at three, Liane and Amy were present in the entry hall of the court building, waiting for the Adjudicators to come and collect them, when Milor walked up.
“Good afternoon, My Lady,” he said, standing rather stiffly and giving her a peculiar look.
“My Lord,” Liane said, dipping her head. “Good afternoon. I trust you are well? We have not talked since the unfortunate events the day before yesterday.”
He nodded rather stiffly. “I am well, My Lady. I am more concerned with whether or not those events have cost me a friend.”
Liane turned to face him, and looked into his eyes. “I understand that the Rules of Equality forbid you from discussing your past or your background, My Lord. I am... vexed... by such limitations, but I will abide them.” She linked her hands behind her back. “However, that event has not cost you a friend.”
His stiff stance relaxed visibly. “I am grateful, My Lady.”
Liane wished she could lift an eyebrow in amusement. “It seems that question has deeply worried you, My Lord.”
His lips quirked. “It did,” he confided, when the Adjudicators entered, one after another, from one of their chambers.
“Please follow us,” the tallest figure intoned in that curiously cloaked voice. As it seemed nobody forbade Amy from following, she joined Liane and Milor.
They entered a door nobody had noticed until now, and descended a flight of stairs that led to an underground corridor. That corridor ended in what appeared to be a stone door carved into the ending wall.
Liane's gaze flickered over the curious stone portal that led nowhere, and looked at the two men that were already present. One was tall, broad-shouldered, and had short gray hair. The second was shorter, younger, in his teens, and had jet-black hair.
Liane blinked. The younger man seemed familiar somehow.
Her inner debate about the identity of the younger man cut off as one of the Adjudicators spoke. “The Lord Chilldu, Master of Necromancy, and his apprentice, the Lord Pertogan, will bridge the afterlife. My Lords, have you been prepared?”
Pertogan! That
was who he was! Liane studied him, filing in the differences the last six and a half years had made to him since she last saw him.
She found it hard to reconcile the image she had of a necromancer in fiction against the figure who was now facing the stone gateway. She had always thought of necromancers as physically weak and pale from lack of sunlight. The two necromancers in front of her now were muscled, and well-tanned.
The Lord Chilldu watched his apprentice like a hawk while Pertogan chanted at the gateway, which flashed twice before the door itself was replaced by an endless black void. “Doria Firemaster, I call you,” Pertogan stated, loudly. “Appear before me!”
A white line snapped out from an object at Pertogan's feet – Liane only now realized that it was the same black cloak her attacker had been wearing on the night of the attack – and reached out through the now opened portal. Not ten seconds later, a white-glowing figure appeared through the archway, and settled in front of Pertogan, on the stone floor in the physical world.
He chanted a short sentence that Liane failed to understand, then turned to the Adjudicators. “She is under my command, My Lords. She will tell you the truth.”
As the Adjudicators interrogated the deceased, Liane studied Pertogan. He had been a rather quiet boy when she had met him during the initiation course in magic. Now he looked rather broad, with heavy shoulders and a broad back.
The Adjudicators finished their interrogation in short order, it was a rather simple case to confirm whether Liane and Milor's perspectives matched the perspective of the deceased. She had indeed launched an attack against them, she had offered leniency if Liane would walk away, and she had indeed threatened death against a Proctor's Assistant. And yes, Liane had killed her after that threat.
“The Adjudication has been made,” one of the cloaked figures spoke after Pertogan dismissed the spirit and sealed the doorway. The Lord Chilldu nodded once to his apprentice. “My Lord Milor Lightningcrafter, My Lady Liane, the MagicWarper, you have been cleared of wrongdoing. You may go,” the figure finished, and strode from the underground hallway with the other two figures, not even waiting for a reaction.
