“Hey, don’t be nervous, okay? Just tell them the whole truth,” Mars said as Alicia was led to prepare for court.
“We’re going to see each other again, aye?” asked Alicia.
“Ye dinnae fash yerself aboot it, eh? World is pure wee for us. Just focus on your court.”
“W-what? S-stop mocking my accent!”
“Alright, alright. Regardless, I wish you good luck, my lady.”
The guards gave her a set of uniforms as a change of clothes. The clothes she was about to wear were similar to those of a scholar, as per Camelot's culture to honour her status as a noble family member.
Having attended to her ablutions and donned her pristine attire, she was brought before a pair of grand doors. A warden announced the accused had arrived and was ready to stand trial. The twin oaken gates, carved with winding vines, swung open wide, exposing a grand circular hall within. Congregations with haute couture inundated the room. Their clothing articles were composed of a motley of fabrics, shapes, tonal jewelries, and hundreds of other knittables. The hall itself was a riot of colour, and the air was tickling the noses with the tang of incense—a scent redolent of magic.
Surely, such sartorial elegance was not for mere commoners—even the royals were less glamorous than all those people. But despite the diversity of their attire, one thing united them all, namely a crest of an owl skeleton clutching a wand and a magic broom, tied together with a ribbon that read "M F M Σ", worn proudly upon their yellow armbands or stitched into their garments. It appeared they were part of the eminent wizarding congregation, the Magisterium of Arcane Plane, and some among them were its most influential figures.
The wardens escorted Alicia to the centre of the hall, released her hand restraints, and then left her marooned amidst the finger-pointing furore. Before her were the four Magisterium superiors sitting in a row as court judges. By their middle were the stairs leading to a giant triumphal throne. Alicia knew the throne was not meant for the Lord of the Dynasty, but rather the exalted seat of the Grand Magus, helmsman of the Magisterium of Arcane Plane. Rendered from her eyes also, the contingent of Roman agents who captured her prior to this day. They were standing at the splitting corner between the mages and their superiors—the judges.
Alicia and all the magi exchanged glances with assorted reactions. Yet, an unexpected amusement unified them as their attention shifted to the sudden influx of moths enveloping the domed ceiling. Their number was growing at a staggering pace. Such a sight sent shivers down Alicia's spine. She looked down briefly but then realised none of the magi voiced their terror, even as the horde flew above their heads. Before long, the moths cascaded near the corner between the jury and the suspect. The swarm formed a black circle; Alicia was guessing: who would appear from that blackened swarm?
Lo and behold, from within the murky tempest emerged Whistlehoff, bearing his irksome and sombre countenance.
A stare blending disdain and angst was given by Alicia. The swarm continued to spiral around David Whistlehoff's figure as if he were a soaring lighthouse. The mages stood as one as David began to recite from an exposed tome borne aloft by the thronging flutter of his pests.
“The venerable judges, the Fair One Grand Magus of Magisterium of Arcane plane, along with honourable juries! rejoiceth, thee who is’t respondeth to the message of the Source of All, o Silent Divine, to beest the scales of His justice, and hammer of His law! Hast been did summon from thee, a user of the Divine Grace beyond the blessing of the City of all Worlds, o Eternal Roma, Alicia Crimsonmane, magical mistress of House Crimsonmane, ranked novitius three! Ariseth, justice! Cometh, judgment! Bewray to us, o Lord of Silence, through thy chosen ones, who is’t raiseth their hammer to repel darkness and lighteneth the path of enshielf sooth! Unveil to us, o Silent Divine, through thy chosen ones who is’t weigheth matters so shalt beest revealed what is right and just to the Crimsonmane mage! May the Silent Divine grant Eternal Peace to His servants!”
His heavy voice added to the chamber of tribunal’s tense atmosphere. Truth be told, Alicia was a little flattered to be recognised as a witch. However, she also suspected that Whistlehoff was cursing her to be thrown by the divine might, all the way to the very ends of Tartarus. But as usual, she could not guess it with accuracy from Whistlehoff’s template temperament.
All the audience, including Alicia, looked at the vacant throne, waiting for the worthy figure to sit and start the tribunal. A person presented from behind the throne, ambling, then sitting on it.
Is he the Grand Magus? muttered Alicia in her heart, as she never saw the current Grand Magus anywhere, be it telemedia or her mother's documents. Judging from his imposing stature, this man was no joke, definitely the mover of all mages in the European world. He had a deep skin tone with dreadlocks. Several slash scars marred his face on his left eye and lips. The expression of his visage depicted a wild bison, whose tantrums were buried deep. A pair of malicious eyes gleamed as if looking at the red cloth from the matador—the girl’s own scarlet hair. His brows seemed to be in constant tension for ages, implying that this man was a walking bomb that could explode whenever. His tall and mesomorph body wore a grey uniform and a long black jacket with a fur collar like the Roman agents—except its leather was full of war stitches, and the fur had lost its hues, corroded by time. Formidable stature and fierce demeanor, the man who Alicia thought was a Grand Magus, glared at her and knocked her confidence even further.
The public remained stupefied. The stares remained for a few moments. Only then, an elderly judge with the sign name "Sylvester Camden" reprimanded the man. “Bartholomew Strongbark!” he said. “Why are you sitting on the throne? Where is the Grand Magus?”
“Wait, he’s not the Grand Magus?” Alicia slipped
Her words turned all heads to the presumptuous girl, not to mention the seated Bartholomew.
“I, uh…,” Alicia was flustered in confusion, then composed a sentence, “… Apologise, I slipped up.”
Bartholomew, in his deep voice, exclaimed, “The Grand Magus is on an affair. I, Bartholomew Strongbark, will replace the Fair One to oversee this trial. Please, let us continue!”
The magi again made noises in their whispers. Sylvester replied to Bartholomew’s words, “Bah! What else is he doing? He’s always absent every time a magic trial is held and instead, wanders off to do things he calls ‘affair’!”
"The Grand Magus is on an affair". How paltry that sentence sounded. Alicia was a little disappointed knowing the Grand Magus was not what she expected. Instead of a great, firm, and authoritative wizard of all, this one sounded like a careless chap who asked others to represent him while relaxing on an "affair". No wonder she never saw him, perhaps the whole Camelot never did, too!
Bartholomew thought his instruction was clear. He did not like this—repeating his words. So the next voice he made was spiced with a hint of resentment. A sonorous thunder terrified everyone in the hall.
“Old man, I said… continue the court!”
Of course, his harsh accent silenced the audience. A judge with the nameplate "Layton" unceremoniously cleared his throat and began the trial.
“Alicia Crimsonmane. You are summoned by the court of Magisterium of Arcane Plane for illegally possessing a magical item that contained the substance of pure Arcane.” A floor patch a few metres away from Alicia opened a hole, where a podium with Orb sealed on it emerged. “What is your defence, Alicia Crimsonmane?”
“Orb!” the lass muttered. She then calmed herself and gave her defence.
“Your honours judges, juries, and... the r-representative of the Fair One Grand Magus. I found Orb near the tomb of Languoreth. I dare to swear I had no intention of stealing it. Orb was the one to choose me.”
The judges deliberated for a while; from their whispers, Alicia could hear them chanting Languoreth’s name several times
“How did you know this Arcane source chose you?” asked Tanner Foxbane, one of the superiors, and the youngest among them.
"I thought you already can tell—"
"How did you know this Arcane source chose you?"
The repetition sounded akin to a harsh resentment or a mockery. “That day, Orb was floating in the middle of the night sky, while emitting a glow that was so bright it replaced the moonlight. It was as if inviting me to go closer.”
“So you were hypnotised to it?”
“No, that was not the case, your honour. I’m still in full consciousness. It’s just I couldn’t ignore that view.”
Another judge, named Roan Copperbolts, composed a new question, “In that case, there should be someone else or even the entire town’s population being aware of the phenomenon, right?”
“No one was aware of the light, Your Honour, except me and my two friends.”
Silence filled the court as the judges whispered among themselves before asking Alicia another question. This time it was Layton’s turn.
“Your friends. Do they have the Arcane might as well?”
“Your Honour, if you may... I don’t think it has anything to do with—”
“They were with you, miss Crimsonmane, were they not?” Layton interrupted her. “Which means they were involved, if Arcane chose them as well. We need to know to make sure they don’t possess the Divine Grace. It is for their safety, too.”
“Your Honour, I swear they have absolutely no magic whatsoever. I beg you not to involve—”
“Listen to me, witch Crimsonmane!” said Bartholomew from afar. “We can do it the rough way, but for the common good, it is better that you can cooperate with us to smooth out the litigation. So for the sake of the Silent Divine… Tell us the names of those two people!”
“I-I can’t hand them over!" Alicia challenged back. "Only I can control Orb’s might! I swear!”
Bartholomew extended his wand-wielding hand. The magic circle on Alicia's hand began to glow, as a flow of mana in the form of electric jolts surged through it. An unnerving scream of pain was heard. Rigidness and limp began to overtake her body.
“That was not even the rough way, miss. Tell us the names immediately!”
“P-please! I—”
The electric shock was revived, and the girl writhed again. She almost collapsed. She could feel her ears ringing, the longer it went on, the more painful it was.
“Nadine E-Evans. G-Gilmore ... Murray,” she groaned.
Bartholomew sat quietly on his throne again.
The magic effect that had plagued Alicia vanished. With regret, she tried to stand on her own because there seemed to be no one to support her. The unconcerned judges continued their investigation.
"The prisoners were brought here not a long time ago. They admitted to witnessing a fight between you and another prisoner with Protos particle, John Philo," uttered Judge Roan. “What’s your defence on that, miss Crimsonmane?”
Alicia held back the bitterness in her mouth. Of course, they told this to everyone, she thought to herself.
“There is no defence, Your Honour," she answered right away. "I had to fight him to prevent him from killing himself and the others. I did what I think was right.”
“So, you’ve fought against the consumer of Protos particles before?”
“I have. A man called Caleb Dune, at the town hall. Unfortunately, I was not able to subdue him right away, and he was found dead several days later.
“Overdosed of Protos particles. Yes, we know that.” Roan ended his own question-and-answer session. “Any more questions, gentlemen?”
Tanner Foxbane replaced Roan to ask. “The magic sphere appeared ‘exclusively’ to you and your friends, and until now, you have been telling the truth. My question is when you got the sphere, did you know it contains pure Arcane?”
“I didn’t know at first, Your Honour. It was only after I fought Caleb Dune that I found out Orb’s might isn’t just any magic.”
“When you came across a foreign object like this, you should have reported it to the local magic authority or the civil guard. Why did you decide to keep it to yourself?” asked Judge Layton.
“I did it on purpose because I felt I might be able to get magic power from Orb. And as you all know, I could cast energies through Orb!”
As he was hearing this, Sylvester Camden arose from his seat. “Wait! Don’t tell me... you were not a mage!”
All eyes in the room turned to the girl right away. The question that Alicia Crimsonmane hated the most, wherever and whenever a mage questioned her validity as a practitioner of mystic arts. A Curse for being born into a wizard family, indeed.
“No, Your Honour, I was not a mage,” her reply was blatant. []
“Hey, don’t be nervous, okay? Just tell them the whole truth,” Mars said as Alicia was led to prepare for court.
“We’re going to see each other again, aye?” asked Alicia.
“Ye dinnae fash yerself aboot it, eh? World is pure wee for us. Just focus on your court.”
“W-what? S-stop mocking my accent!”
“Alright, alright. Regardless, I wish you good luck, my lady.”
The guards gave her a set of uniforms as a change of clothes. The clothes she was about to wear were similar to those of a scholar, as per Camelot's culture to honour her status as a noble family member.
Having attended to her ablutions and donned her pristine attire, she was brought before a pair of grand doors. A warden announced the accused had arrived and was ready to stand trial. The twin oaken gates, carved with winding vines, swung open wide, exposing a grand circular hall within. Congregations with haute couture inundated the room. Their clothing articles were composed of a motley of fabrics, shapes, tonal jewelries, and hundreds of other knittables. The hall itself was a riot of colour, and the air was tickling the noses with the tang of incense—a scent redolent of magic.
Surely, such sartorial elegance was not for mere commoners—even the royals were less glamorous than all those people. But despite the diversity of their attire, one thing united them all, namely a crest of an owl skeleton clutching a wand and a magic broom, tied together with a ribbon that read "M F M Σ", worn proudly upon their yellow armbands or stitched into their garments. It appeared they were part of the eminent wizarding congregation, the Magisterium of Arcane Plane, and some among them were its most influential figures.
The wardens escorted Alicia to the centre of the hall, released her hand restraints, and then left her marooned amidst the finger-pointing furore. Before her were the four Magisterium superiors sitting in a row as court judges. By their middle were the stairs leading to a giant triumphal throne. Alicia knew the throne was not meant for the Lord of the Dynasty, but rather the exalted seat of the Grand Magus, helmsman of the Magisterium of Arcane Plane. Rendered from her eyes also, the contingent of Roman agents who captured her prior to this day. They were standing at the splitting corner between the mages and their superiors—the judges.
Alicia and all the magi exchanged glances with assorted reactions. Yet, an unexpected amusement unified them as their attention shifted to the sudden influx of moths enveloping the domed ceiling. Their number was growing at a staggering pace. Such a sight sent shivers down Alicia's spine. She looked down briefly but then realised none of the magi voiced their terror, even as the horde flew above their heads. Before long, the moths cascaded near the corner between the jury and the suspect. The swarm formed a black circle; Alicia was guessing: who would appear from that blackened swarm?
Lo and behold, from within the murky tempest emerged Whistlehoff, bearing his irksome and sombre countenance.
A stare blending disdain and angst was given by Alicia. The swarm continued to spiral around David Whistlehoff's figure as if he were a soaring lighthouse. The mages stood as one as David began to recite from an exposed tome borne aloft by the thronging flutter of his pests.
“The venerable judges, the Fair One Grand Magus of Magisterium of Arcane plane, along with honourable juries! rejoiceth, thee who is’t respondeth to the message of the Source of All, o Silent Divine, to beest the scales of His justice, and hammer of His law! Hast been did summon from thee, a user of the Divine Grace beyond the blessing of the City of all Worlds, o Eternal Roma, Alicia Crimsonmane, magical mistress of House Crimsonmane, ranked novitius three! Ariseth, justice! Cometh, judgment! Bewray to us, o Lord of Silence, through thy chosen ones, who is’t raiseth their hammer to repel darkness and lighteneth the path of enshielf sooth! Unveil to us, o Silent Divine, through thy chosen ones who is’t weigheth matters so shalt beest revealed what is right and just to the Crimsonmane mage! May the Silent Divine grant Eternal Peace to His servants!”
His heavy voice added to the chamber of tribunal’s tense atmosphere. Truth be told, Alicia was a little flattered to be recognised as a witch. However, she also suspected that Whistlehoff was cursing her to be thrown by the divine might, all the way to the very ends of Tartarus. But as usual, she could not guess it with accuracy from Whistlehoff’s template temperament.
All the audience, including Alicia, looked at the vacant throne, waiting for the worthy figure to sit and start the tribunal. A person presented from behind the throne, ambling, then sitting on it.
Is he the Grand Magus? muttered Alicia in her heart, as she never saw the current Grand Magus anywhere, be it telemedia or her mother's documents. Judging from his imposing stature, this man was no joke, definitely the mover of all mages in the European world. He had a deep skin tone with dreadlocks. Several slash scars marred his face on his left eye and lips. The expression of his visage depicted a wild bison, whose tantrums were buried deep. A pair of malicious eyes gleamed as if looking at the red cloth from the matador—the girl’s own scarlet hair. His brows seemed to be in constant tension for ages, implying that this man was a walking bomb that could explode whenever. His tall and mesomorph body wore a grey uniform and a long black jacket with a fur collar like the Roman agents—except its leather was full of war stitches, and the fur had lost its hues, corroded by time. Formidable stature and fierce demeanor, the man who Alicia thought was a Grand Magus, glared at her and knocked her confidence even further.
The public remained stupefied. The stares remained for a few moments. Only then, an elderly judge with the sign name "Sylvester Camden" reprimanded the man. “Bartholomew Strongbark!” he said. “Why are you sitting on the throne? Where is the Grand Magus?”
“Wait, he’s not the Grand Magus?” Alicia slipped
Her words turned all heads to the presumptuous girl, not to mention the seated Bartholomew.
“I, uh…,” Alicia was flustered in confusion, then composed a sentence, “… Apologise, I slipped up.”
Bartholomew, in his deep voice, exclaimed, “The Grand Magus is on an affair. I, Bartholomew Strongbark, will replace the Fair One to oversee this trial. Please, let us continue!”
The magi again made noises in their whispers. Sylvester replied to Bartholomew’s words, “Bah! What else is he doing? He’s always absent every time a magic trial is held and instead, wanders off to do things he calls ‘affair’!”
"The Grand Magus is on an affair". How paltry that sentence sounded. Alicia was a little disappointed knowing the Grand Magus was not what she expected. Instead of a great, firm, and authoritative wizard of all, this one sounded like a careless chap who asked others to represent him while relaxing on an "affair". No wonder she never saw him, perhaps the whole Camelot never did, too!
Bartholomew thought his instruction was clear. He did not like this—repeating his words. So the next voice he made was spiced with a hint of resentment. A sonorous thunder terrified everyone in the hall.
“Old man, I said… continue the court!”
Of course, his harsh accent silenced the audience. A judge with the nameplate "Layton" unceremoniously cleared his throat and began the trial.
“Alicia Crimsonmane. You are summoned by the court of Magisterium of Arcane Plane for illegally possessing a magical item that contained the substance of pure Arcane.” A floor patch a few metres away from Alicia opened a hole, where a podium with Orb sealed on it emerged. “What is your defence, Alicia Crimsonmane?”
“Orb!” the lass muttered. She then calmed herself and gave her defence.
“Your honours judges, juries, and... the r-representative of the Fair One Grand Magus. I found Orb near the tomb of Languoreth. I dare to swear I had no intention of stealing it. Orb was the one to choose me.”
The judges deliberated for a while; from their whispers, Alicia could hear them chanting Languoreth’s name several times
“How did you know this Arcane source chose you?” asked Tanner Foxbane, one of the superiors, and the youngest among them.
"I thought you already can tell—"
"How did you know this Arcane source chose you?"
The repetition sounded akin to a harsh resentment or a mockery. “That day, Orb was floating in the middle of the night sky, while emitting a glow that was so bright it replaced the moonlight. It was as if inviting me to go closer.”
“So you were hypnotised to it?”
“No, that was not the case, your honour. I’m still in full consciousness. It’s just I couldn’t ignore that view.”
Another judge, named Roan Copperbolts, composed a new question, “In that case, there should be someone else or even the entire town’s population being aware of the phenomenon, right?”
“No one was aware of the light, Your Honour, except me and my two friends.”
Silence filled the court as the judges whispered among themselves before asking Alicia another question. This time it was Layton’s turn.
“Your friends. Do they have the Arcane might as well?”
“Your Honour, if you may... I don’t think it has anything to do with—”
“They were with you, miss Crimsonmane, were they not?” Layton interrupted her. “Which means they were involved, if Arcane chose them as well. We need to know to make sure they don’t possess the Divine Grace. It is for their safety, too.”
“Your Honour, I swear they have absolutely no magic whatsoever. I beg you not to involve—”
“Listen to me, witch Crimsonmane!” said Bartholomew from afar. “We can do it the rough way, but for the common good, it is better that you can cooperate with us to smooth out the litigation. So for the sake of the Silent Divine… Tell us the names of those two people!”
“I-I can’t hand them over!" Alicia challenged back. "Only I can control Orb’s might! I swear!”
Bartholomew extended his wand-wielding hand. The magic circle on Alicia's hand began to glow, as a flow of mana in the form of electric jolts surged through it. An unnerving scream of pain was heard. Rigidness and limp began to overtake her body.
“That was not even the rough way, miss. Tell us the names immediately!”
“P-please! I—”
The electric shock was revived, and the girl writhed again. She almost collapsed. She could feel her ears ringing, the longer it went on, the more painful it was.
“Nadine E-Evans. G-Gilmore ... Murray,” she groaned.
Bartholomew sat quietly on his throne again.
The magic effect that had plagued Alicia vanished. With regret, she tried to stand on her own because there seemed to be no one to support her. The unconcerned judges continued their investigation.
"The prisoners were brought here not a long time ago. They admitted to witnessing a fight between you and another prisoner with Protos particle, John Philo," uttered Judge Roan. “What’s your defence on that, miss Crimsonmane?”
Alicia held back the bitterness in her mouth. Of course, they told this to everyone, she thought to herself.
“There is no defence, Your Honour," she answered right away. "I had to fight him to prevent him from killing himself and the others. I did what I think was right.”
“So, you’ve fought against the consumer of Protos particles before?”
“I have. A man called Caleb Dune, at the town hall. Unfortunately, I was not able to subdue him right away, and he was found dead several days later.
“Overdosed of Protos particles. Yes, we know that.” Roan ended his own question-and-answer session. “Any more questions, gentlemen?”
Tanner Foxbane replaced Roan to ask. “The magic sphere appeared ‘exclusively’ to you and your friends, and until now, you have been telling the truth. My question is when you got the sphere, did you know it contains pure Arcane?”
“I didn’t know at first, Your Honour. It was only after I fought Caleb Dune that I found out Orb’s might isn’t just any magic.”
“When you came across a foreign object like this, you should have reported it to the local magic authority or the civil guard. Why did you decide to keep it to yourself?” asked Judge Layton.
“I did it on purpose because I felt I might be able to get magic power from Orb. And as you all know, I could cast energies through Orb!”
As he was hearing this, Sylvester Camden arose from his seat. “Wait! Don’t tell me... you were not a mage!”
All eyes in the room turned to the girl right away. The question that Alicia Crimsonmane hated the most, wherever and whenever a mage questioned her validity as a practitioner of mystic arts. A Curse for being born into a wizard family, indeed.
“No, Your Honour, I was not a mage,” her reply was blatant. []
