The Moral Equation

[Moryldar]

"What was that?"

Moryldar returned his glare to Vincas, who resumed his arrogant smile. The battlemage, having ceased to use his powers the instant things started getting strange in the room, stood over Lucian and studied him as though he were trying to discover more about the young man.

Camulous broke the silence to answer the question nobody else could or would. "That was what we're here prevent."

[Porter]

"Melodramatic but somewhat accurate, Captain."

The porter, the strange mannequin-perfect man who had only been there when Lanya was first taken to Justice Hall, appeared in the courtroom from a direction conveniently unobserved by anyone. He continued in his pleasant and polite voice, the surface of which hinted so very lightly at condescension. Camulous took it in stride.

"It was a magical discharge I was forced to rectify." Then to the judges: "I must request that this trial be concluded as quickly as possible. The scryers are not taking it well and I must perform an analysis of the event to determine if further action should be suggested."

Nobody appeared to like the porter but Vincas, who was too pleased with himself and the entire situation to be bothered by personal grievances. "Yes, do finish the trial Moryldar. I'm curious to see what else you come up with."

[Lanya Caliope]

Trying to prevent...some kind of magical outburst. But it hadn't come from her; it was impossible that it could have. So where?...

There was no point in asking. Lanya turned to gaze at yet another male as he entered the room and found herself lost. She could do little more than stand and rattle her chains, and she didn't fancy acting like some caged animal which fidgeted. To avoid this, she crossed her arms and glared at the first elder she'd met. He was the root cause of this entire mess and she felt comfortable directing open scorn at him. Worrying about Lucian, or begging for aid on Lucian's behalf, had gotten her nowhere, and she wasn't about to waste her breath on a lost cause.

[Moryldar]

Moryldar was furious and struggled to regain his composure. Rather than continue to look and act like a flustered old man, he resumed his political persona of the third... nay... the second most powerful person in Thar Shaddin. It was a setback that only affected his short term goals and nothing he couldn't rectify later. If Vincas chose to pursue the matter and seek a death sentence for his deceptions, there would be an all out political war. That was not something Vincas wanted; not from his comfortable position.

"It appears that these unforeseen circumstances prevent us from furthering our proceedings with a full assembly until a later date. It is my verdict that the prisoner be released until she can be re-evaluated by the scryers without such a corrupting magical influence twisting our very thoughts..."

He had to get rid of her, which is what Vincas and the Captain no doubt wanted. This way he could leave options open at the very least. Already the prospect of having Dennison kill her quietly in a dark alley was looking very appealing.

[Vincas]

Moryldars turn came as a bit of a surprise to Vincas. He didn't know why Moryldar wanted Lanya dead, and the primary reason he was interfering was to find out exactly that. Anything Moryldar wanted was something Vincas had to get his hands into and, if possible, sabotage. By letting her go Moryldar was throwing the ball in his court, and the rotund judge had guessed right. Vincas wasn't prepared to start a war until he knew what was going on. Even if he did jump on Moryldar for the illegal trial, there was no guarantee of an execution. Not yet.

"Re-evaluated?" He laughed maliciously. "Yes of course. Whatever happened here must have twisted our minds and the scryers' readings. A re-evaluation is a splendid idea, Moryldar. Let's do that. Until then, we have no reason to keep her here."

Vincas stepped aside for Camulous, who kept a dutifully straight face despite his bewilderment. He knew the judges had no great love for each other, but what was going on between them in front of his very eyes was perplexing.

It was also none of his business.

He walked around Vincas into the courtroom and to Lanya with the young, white robed and spooky-eyed orderly following in tow. Moryldar nodded to the boy with a roll of his eyes and the manacles came off Lanya's wrists one at a time.

Camulous held her shoulders in his gauntleted hands. "Come on, lets go."

[Lanya Caliope]

As the chains clattered to the floor, Lanya looked not at the guard but at the two older men. She didn't feel grateful or obligated toward the other elder who had caused this moment - she felt quite strongly that it was all some kind of ruse, a political game which the two men played with each other. And she their ball.

She rubbed her wrists absently, chafing them to try and dull the slight ache. She didn't think they would be sore, but it never hurt to be cautious. Now she looked at the guard finally, ignoring the others nearby. Her eyes flashed temper, but her voice came out neutral.

"I'll be needing my things. My pack, my walking stick - are they here?"

Or were they left at that accursed tavern? If so, that was the first stop she'd make, assassin be damned. She needed the stick; Flame was alive, but still magical in nature, and she didn't know if he still needed the perch for any reason.

"My guitar. I use it to make my living. And what of Lucian?"

[Vincas]

"I'll be needing my things. My pack, my walking stick - are they here?"

The captain impelled Lanya out of the room with his hands on her shoulders, as much for her sake as to alleviate his own discomfort. "You didn't have them when I brought you here, they must be at the tavern..."

"Lucian," Vincas repeated the name emphatically, as it was the first time he'd heard it, "will remain here until we can decide how much of a threat he is to the city. If he can control his outbursts, he may be released with only a minor punishment for failing to declare his presence to us."

The battlemage was still looking at the young man, who remained dead still on the floor. The porter was likewise interested, but had no trouble multitasking and prioritizing things. He said something softly to the scryers, all three of which still looked shaken by what had happened. One of them kept looking around the room like there were spiders crawling all over the walls, and all of them mumbled incoherently in their handicapped voices.

Camulous kept pushing. The whole scene made his skin crawl.

[Lanya Caliope]

Left at the tavern - she hoped they were still there.

"And my guitar? That wasn't left at the tavern."

Her voice sounded a little desperate, almost panicked, as she turned herself to look into the room where Lucian remained still, her eyes dark with her worry. She didn't want to leave without him, but she couldn't think of any other distractions.

"It must be here. I need that guitar."

Her voice was distracted, and finally she stopped in her tracks, glaring at the elder. Both of them. She didn't even care anymore; they'd spared her but now Lucian, her friend, was in worse danger. She remembered that Wolfhound had died at their hands; she didn't give a damn about their idiotic laws or their reasons. They'd killed at least one innocent because he didn't fit their jurisdictions; she wouldn't let them take another.

But she couldn't actually do anything. The words she wanted so badly to speak died on her tongue; the guard could probably feel her tension under his hands. She felt at a loss, staring at Lucian's body upon the floor. He couldn't be dead, could he? She took a staggered breath, trying to stabilize her emotions - her protective instinct. She wanted Lucian safe, but she had no way to guarantee his safety. No resources at her disposal. She shook her head, looking away from the scene finally but remaining in place. Her question is directed at the guard - no, not the guard. The accursed captain.

"Will they kill him?"

[Camulous Smithson]

The captain continued to put pressure on her to leave the room, but he was afraid being any more forceful would knock her over in her injured condition.

"It must be here. I need that guitar."

"Forget your guitar, we have to go."

But she wouldn't go. She was concerned about her friend. She couldn't understand that it should be enough that she was escaping with her own life.

"Will they kill him?"

He decided to spare her more truth and his suspicion that they were going to kill Lucian to prevent what just happened from happening again. "I don't know."

Camulous was not a man of words, he was a man of action. He couldn't comfort her any more than he could lie and tell her Lucian would be fine. His men, his soldiers, he could handle. This fragile creature was beyond his domain.

[Lanya Caliope]

"That instrument is my living. You think I can afford a new one?"

She hissed out these words just above a whisper, as though embarrassed to reveal her own poverty - when in truth she didn't want to reveal the importance and danger of Greenfyre to the elders within the room. She put the three mystics out of her mind; if they had read the danger, surely they'd have indicated as much, and at the moment they seemed too far gone to notice her thoughts.

The guard's easy lie tormented the woman, and she hugged herself, looking back into the room as he ushered her out with more force. A stumble would be agony, and so she followed without fighting any further, though her eyes remained fixed on the doorway for several more moments before she turned to watch where she was going.

"You're the captain, aren't you? How can you not know?"

Her voice carried annoyance and the tones of restrained anger. What kind of place was this? What type of justice did the execution of innocents serve? She would be glad to leave this place behind - but not Lucian.

"Please, just tell me the truth. At least if I know he'll die, I'll have my chance to mourn."

[Camulous Smithson]

"That instrument is my living. You think I can afford a new one?"

The captain glowered at her. Though he could not express himself without breaking the code of ethics that ran his life, he was as angry at her as he was with the whole situation. She was lucky to be alive. Caring about a guitar was completely irrational. Were she one of his men, he would have beaten some sense into her.

She wasn't. Nor was she a criminal, or even a witch. Therein lay the problem. A problem he could do nothing about.

"Please, just tell me the truth. At least if I know he'll die, I'll have my chance to mourn."

"It's not up to me." A hint of anger tightened his voice, not entirely meant for her. "He will have a fair trial." Unlike her. Whatever her name was.

The once-a-witch.

He led her straight to the exist as fast as she would go. He had work to do, and was eager to shed the burden she posed. Lucian he cared much less about, though Camulous was not about to forget him.

[Lanya Caliope]

Lanya felt on the verge of tears, but inhaled deeply and straightened her back, fighting the sobs building inside with gusto. Nothing would be worse than crying in front of this man who disdained her so much. She was just another problem to these people, someone to accuse, nearly kill, and then remove from their presence. Barely a person, and certainly not worth consideration.

I will not cry.

The going was still slow despite her cooperation. She could only move so fast on such a painful knee. After a few more steps she glanced back once more, worry clogging her throat (not sobs, she told herself sternly) as she wondered if Lucian would have anything near a fair trial. If what she'd experienced was a taste of this city's justice system, she wanted to leave at her earliest convenience.

Without Lucian.

Who was here because of her.

At the exit, she paused again, looking at the captain with weariness lining her face. She didn't care what he thought of her, or what these men would do to her. She hadn't expected to survive this day, or the past several; she hadn't ever expected to leave this building. Perhaps her twisted luck would continue on until she simply died of worry. The next words emerged without a care to back them; she was frustrated, tired, worried, and scared. And oh, how she wanted to cry.

"You've put quite a kink in the works, you know. I imagine the city's newest mage will be upset with this turn."

She looked at the doors, outside if they were open to scan the sky. Her voice was quiet with hardly any inflection left.

"I wonder how long he'll allow me to live this time?"

[Camulous Smithson]

It wasn't very far to the antechamber and the exit from Justice Hall. There were no apparent guards and the porter remained back in the courtroom with Lucian and the others. A single battlemage pushed past them at the end of the hall. Out of uniform, the man was pitifully small when juxtaposed with the Captain and his plate.

The smaller man had no fear in him of Camulous though. They exchanged gazes and the battlemage smiled. He spoke up, dripping with sarcasm. "Good Captain." Not one to play games, Camulous wasn't about to talk back. He kept going with Lanya until the front doors swung open on their own. Lanya spoke up just before them.

She said something about the latest mage. He assumed it was something she experienced or someone she met while she was imprisoned in the Hall. He didn't know who all the mages were, nor did he expect that a new one would be particularly significant to him...

"I wonder how long he'll allow me to live this time?"

He eased her beyond the doorway and all the magical barriers protecting the Hall. It sounded like she was talking about Moryldar. He was the only one who wanted her dead. Him and Dennison. The latest mage.

He stopped, still holding her shoulders with his gauntleted hands.

"Who are you talking about?" There was a sense of desperation in his voice.

[Lanya Caliope]

Despite her blanket hatred of just about every person who had to do with this city, she had to feel grateful to the captain when they actually stepped outside into fresh air. She couldn't help but pause to take a deep breath, inhaling actual city scents rather than whatever the Hall smelled like. Sterile and clean. Inhuman.

She even closed her eyes as a very light breeze ruffled her hair. Her knee ached through the padding the healer had wrapped it in the day before, her stomach was painfully tight due to hunger, her head and throat throbbed for want of water...still she found this small pleasure in this moment.

A gentle smile tugged at her lips as a robin's song warbled nearby. She recognized the song itself; it was a special little song they'd created together. She wouldn't dare call to Flame but she was happy to hear the tune. He hadn't abandoned her; perhaps he'd decided to stay indefinitely...

His grips on her shoulders tightened, drawing her eyes open as she fixed her attention on him. His questions brought back the taste of rage and her eyes hardened to emeralds as she met his gaze. She so wanted to scream into his face...but she couldn't. It simply wasn't within her nature, and though the anger she felt still pounded at her temples, she could not justify forcing her temper on this man.

Her voice was still strained with her efforts to remain calm, and hoarse from all of her listed damages.

"My assassin. Treated to the same as me, of course."

She looked away into the road. She would not cry.

"I am not sure of the terms...Captain. But they want me dead, badly enough to lie...perhaps they need to destroy a loose end."

[Camulous Smithson]

His eyes rode the horizon as she talked. Tall stone towers of the guard headquarters silhouetted before the reddening, cloudless sky. Behind it were the hovels of the shanty town, the Ofriyu Mar, and then a vast expanse of dry wasteland. A lone black figure drifted across that sky, too large to be a bird at that distance. One of the native wyverns, smart enough to keep clear of the city.

He let go of her shoulders when he realized he was still hanging onto them like he was leading a prisoner. He waited until the doors to the Hall were completely closed behind them and carefully considered what she was saying. He made a poor detective, but the clues were laid out before him. He just didn't want to believe it.

"Whether or not you're right, Dennison will come after you again. You need to go somewhere safe until he shows his head again."

He left her to collect his horse. A great white beast, it tried to nuzzle his face when he untied it but he wasn't in the mood and yanked it back. The creature figured it out quickly and minded its business.

"Can you ride?"