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The Hearing

September, 1898

Two men walked along a gray brick path. The first, tall in comparison to his

counterpart, wore a nervous look that was partly concealed by his midnight-black,

shoulder-length hair. His face was drawn and the deep blue robes he wore did little to

conceal his lean build. With every word in his fervent conversation, striations in his jaw

muscles contracted and relaxed. Despite being in his mid teens, his concerned expression

and the weariness in his eyes gave him the look of a much older man.

To his left strode a man who looked as if he lacked the strength to stand let alone keep

the pace at which he currently moved. He was bent over a rickety looking wooden cane that

threatened to break every time the man’s weight shifted, bowing the shaft slightly. His

grey hair was cropped close and marbled with streaks of bright white. He wore purple

robes beneath which wide shoulders and a well-fed midsection pulled at the clasps. His

face was calm. Despite the many summers it had obviously seen, his expression added

youth to his appearance.

The path appeared endless. Dark moss grew in the joints between stones softening

the men’s steps. The path was lined with tall rectangular columns that reached just above

even the tallest man’s head. To the right of the path a crimson sun cast long shadows from

each column and blood-red light spilled through each opening.

They continued their walk conversing back and forth as the sun fell behind the

horizon. Just as the last ray of light fell behind the trees, tureens mounted on the columns

ignited in orange flames. The men stopped as they reached a massive staircase. Torches

flickered in the breeze beside the steps that appeared to stretch to infinity. The boy turned

to his elder.

“So it is to be in the upper chambers.”

“No need for concern, James. Mind games are standard practice among the politically

well connected when attempting to make a point. They want you to be afraid. They want

 

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you to be intimidated,” said the older man.

He paused a moment, took a deep breath and looked up at James.

“Are you afraid, James?”

“No.”, James replied.

“Remember, it is they who are afraid. You intimidate them. That is why we are here.

The rest is just political smoke and mirrors on both sides to grasp what little power they

can. They are desperate. Speak cautiously. Desperation will push reasonable men to say

and do unreasonable things.”

Without interrupting his train of thought the elder man began his ascent. James

followed quietly.

“Understand the question and reply. Never speak from emotion but from fact.

Truth will reveal you for who you are. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master Ammoncourt.”

“James, I cannot overemphasize the importance of remaining calm and emotionless.

You have a tendency to react without analysis but do not lament. Many men who’ve seen

more turns than even Akil haven’t mastered this technique. Everyone’s in such a bloody

hurry to say what they want to say, they don’t take the time to consider if they should

actually say it. The years of putting some thought into a conversation have long passed, “

said Ammoncourt.

Ammoncourt looked over at James as they climbed the stairs. James’ brow was

furrowed, forcing a vein in his forehead to pulse beneath his skin. His hands were clenched

into fists. Ammoncourt stopped suddenly. James, consumed by his current thoughts, didn’t

notice and continued up the stairs.

“James,” Ammoncourt said calmly.

James stopped and looked back down at Ammoncourt, his hands immediately

relaxed.

“I do not intend to take another step until you’ve eliminated this turmoil from your

mind. You must control your anger. While you may find it amusing that you’ve developed a

reputation for your fits of rage, I assure you it is only a weakness. One that will be

exploited by your enemies as often as possible. Now, calm yourself.”

James closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. With his last breath he exhaled

the tension from his body. Ammoncourt raised a concerned eyebrow as James looked down

at him with a reassuring expression.

 

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“No matter how absurd or unjust the questions become, and you can assure yourself

they will digress into absurdity, you must remain calm. “

James took another breath. He imagined his emotions expelling from his lungs with

his last breath as Ammoncourt had taught him. His mind felt sharp and clear.

“The boy masters what took the rest of us thrice the time yet he cannot control his

own emotions,” Ammoncourt muttered to himself.

James gave a single nod as the final breath escaped his lungs. The pair continued

up the stone stairs in silence. After climbing twice the number of steps on any Egyptian

structure, the men finally reached the apex.

Two guards cloaked in white stood watch on either side of an archway. Both wore

helms of silver preventing recognition. Neither moved as James and Ammoncourt passed

into the darkened archway. James had to duck slightly to clear the curve of the arch. The

pair walked through a darkened tunnel toward the light beyond.

Just before they stepped past the end of the tunnel, Ammoncourt muttered tersely

“Listen, analyze, respond. And remember the primer incantation.”

James took several calming breaths then followed Ammoncourt into the upper

chambers. The room was massive. The floor was one large piece of polished emerald

granite. It stretched in an oval to an identical archway at the opposite end of the chambers.

In the center of the chamber stood a stone lectern. On it sat a large old book.

James kept his gaze forward as they walked toward the lectern but couldn’t help

noticing the perimeter was lined with more guards in white cloaks. The men stopped

within arms length of the lectern. James concentrated on the archway at the opposite end

of the room. He repeated the primer incantation as they waited, fighting the emotions that

pressed upon his mind to free themselves. Hustasunetik.

After a moment of standing in silence a sound resonated in the chamber. Despite

Ammoncourt’s instruction not to react, James turned his head toward the origination of the

sound. He thought he heard a consternative grunt from Ammoncourt. He had violated his

master’s instructions before the hearing even began.

The sound echoed through the chamber again. The second time, James did not

react. He knew what it was. The guards surrounding the chamber were each armed with

long-handled steel axes. The blades were tall and slender unlike standard fighting axes.

They were rumored to slice through oak as easily as a man’s throat. The never dulling

blades were one of many defenses carried by the guards.

 

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Again the handles fell to the floor. James could feel the impact in his chest. The

tempo increased. Boom, boom, boom. He knew what came next. Flames erupted around

the archway. The pounding stopped abruptly. Three men walked briskly beneath the

flames toward the lectern. The first, smaller than the two behind, wore white robes like

those of the guards. Crimson embroidery distinguished him from the others. The two men

following wore blood red robes, their faces shadowed by hoods.

As the man in white reached the lectern, the guards surrounding the chamber gave

one final concussion that echoed for minutes. Boom. The red-robed men stood just off the

man in white’s left and right shoulders. The man in white raised his right hand as if

quieting an applauding crowd.

“We hear the testimony of James Lochlan Stuart IV in defense against charges

brought forth by the counsel. Are all present whom we require?”

Lights illuminated revealing a previously blackened area of seating surrounding the

chamber above the guards. They dimmed as the man in white nodded his head.

Again James calmed himself. Exhaling slowly. Focusing on fact. Knowing the

counsel had nothing to convict him.

“Let us begin,” said the man in white. He peered over his spectacles at James,

searching for signs of weakness, attempting to intimidate James with his cold grey eyes.

James remained stone-faced. The man turned his gaze to Ammoncourt who smiled back.

His smile feigned friendliness while his eyes sent another message. The man was unable to

hold eye contact for more than an instant. He looked down at the lectern, clearly vexed by

the look Ammoncourt returned. He turned his body toward James as if he could pretend

Ammoncourt wasn’t there at all.

“The charges: Acting against a counsel mandate. Spearheading a conspiracy and

murder.”

“Murder?” James shouted. Taken aback, his heart immediately began pounding in his

ears. Ammoncourt’s eyes glanced quickly at James but he made no other movement.

“Calm yourself,” Master Elder said with enjoyment in knowing he had broken James’

emotional shield with a single word. The red-robed figures each took a step toward James.

Master Elder raised his hand stopping the guards. James silently cursed himself for

reacting.

“The counsel mandate...”

“In order to afford a proper defense, the accused has a right to the victim’s name,

 

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Master Elder,” Ammoncourt interrupted.

Master Elder looked up with a grin, happy it was Ammoncourt who had interjected;

providing him the opportunity for retribution from his previous embarrassment.

“Of course, Master Ammoncourt. The victim is Akil Karanis.”

Several gasps could be heard from the seating area above. Ammoncourt’s face turned

dour as he took a step forward.

“Preposterous. Simply because the counsel is too incompetent to locate the man they

deem an enemy of the faithful does not imply he’s been murdered. No proof has ever

surfaced of his so-called murder, no evidence of a body has ever been found. It is clear that

the counsel is grasping at anything in order to besmirch Mr. Stuart. If this, the most

serious of charges, is so riddled with holes, how is any among the counsel supposed to give

any merit to the remaining arguments? I call for a vote on the immediate dismissal of all

charges. Let us stop wasting the counsel’s time by allowing Alvaro’s influence win over

absurdity.”

“Blasphemous! How dare you speak of Grand Master Elder Alvaro in such a manner?

Such admonishment will not be tolerated,” said Master Elder.

“I speak the truth. Nothing more,” replied Ammoncourt calmly.

“This is not an open forum in which to further your political agenda, Master

Ammoncourt. We are here today because crimes have been committed. Laws have been

broken. A man has been killed. Now be silent and allow this hearing to proceed or I will

have you removed.”

“Your puppets do not frighten me. Nor do your threats. I stand on the side of truth.

Which, above all else, will prevail.”

“Master Elder,” a voice said from the seating area above the chamber. “I suggest you

move quickly to show us your evidence, irrefutable I imagine, or you wouldn’t have

summoned us here, proving this boy is the murderer of Akil Karanis.

“Of course, High Elder Grimm,” Master Elder replied hastily. “With respect to the

murder of Akil Karanis I present the following damning evidence; a witness to the crime.”

Gasps fell from the seats above. Master Elder raised both hands, palms up, to his

shoulders. An orb of blue light, small at first grew from the centers of his palms until it

stretched across his hands.

“As always, the counsel allows witness recounts to be classified incontrovertible.” He

turned toward James, grinning.

 

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Without another word, Master Elder gently tossed the orb into the air. As it reached

its apex, it expanded, encasing the entire chamber in a new scene.

In a forest of giant trees, James sat on a large stone by a fire. He looked younger –

less burdened. He leaned toward the flames warming his hands. A flash of light drew his

attention. He quickly stood and turned toward the source. A man appeared. Akil Karanis.

James relaxed. He walked toward Akil then stopped several feet away, encircling his right

fist in his left hand, he bowed deeply. Akil returned the greeting.

“I didn’t think you’d return,” James said.

“Nor I, until I was summoned.”

“By whom?”

“By you, of course,” Akil replied, slightly perplexed by James’ response.

“I did not summon you,” James replied, a concerned look quickly replaced the relief.

“We must leave quickly. Gather your things,” said Akil.

James stepped quickly toward the fire and lifted a leather bag lying next to the stone

upon which he was seated. Another flash of light drew both men’s attention. A third

person, veiled by the shadow of the tree, appeared.

“What are you doing here?” James asked to the figure in the shadow.

“You know this person, James?” Akil asked.

James looked into Akil’s eyes for a brief moment then quickly muttered a word. A

large rock lifted from the ground and, as if James controlled it with invisible strings, he

heaved it at Akil. The stone hit an invisible barrier and fell harmlessly to the ground.

“James. Why?” asked Akil.

A purple flame grew between James’ outstretched hands. Without a word, he pushed

it toward Akil. Looking neither afraid nor even concerned, the flame struck Akil. He

stiffened and began to shake where he stood. Beams of red light bore outward from

beneath his skin. He let out a wail of pain as the light exploded from his body leaving only

a small purple orb floating in the air where he stood. Akil Karanis was dead. James’ hands

were still outstretched, his face still wrought with concentration after casting such a

massive incantation. The scene dissolved like mist revealing the chamber once again.

Ammoncourt looked at James in disbelief. Pandemonium gripped James’ expression.

“This cannot be.” Ammoncourt muttered.

“Incontrovertible,” Master Elder said with a wry smile, “as are our laws. I move to

immediate sentencing if it pleases the counsel.”

 

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“This is clearly a fabrication. The third law would have had to been broken as the

alleged spell caster still stands before us,” said Ammoncourt.

“Never in the history of our kind has someone tampered with a memory as you now

allege,” replied Master Elder.

“What is more reasonable? That this boy has managed to circumvent one of the

unbreakable laws or someone, a person with real power, has finally found a way to tamper

with a memory, which is not among the unbreakable nine?”

Ammoncourt stepped toward the center of the chamber, his arms outstretched in a

pleading posture.

“Ladies and gentlemen. I implore you to listen to reason. The counsel fears this boy

because of what he is. James is our one chance to bring about a peaceful end to the

impending conflict. Have no doubt, he is The Anointed One. Do not be swayed by political

motivation and use common sense. Is it truly reasonable to assume that not only did this

boy find a way to break an unbreakable law and overpower the greatest sorcerer of our time

or perhaps there is another explanation?”

“Touching, however irrelevant at this point, I’m afraid,” Master Elder said with the

slightest of smirks. “It’s over Ammoncourt,” he whispered. “You should have never

returned.”

“The only thing left to discuss is the sentence,” Master Elder said, raising his voice.

“No!” James shouted, finally coming out of his shock-induced stupor.

“I didn’t murder Akil. None of that happened. He’s like a father to me. Someone tampered

with the memory!”

James’ body began to shake. The vein on his forehead stood out and began to pulse as

the ground began to tremor. Gasps and cries could be heard from the invisible witnesses in

the shadowed seating above.

Master Elder nodded at the red-robed guards whose body language quickly changed

from aggressive to apprehensive. Neither moved as James continued to shake. A faint red

glow surrounded him as he clenched his fists in an attempt to control himself.

“Now, you fools!” Master Elder screamed, jolting the guards into action. They stepped

forward and took James by his arms. Both guards immediately fell to the ground

motionless. As if expecting it, Master Elder waived his arms signaling the axe wielding

guards to converge. James’ vision began to spin as he listened to the sentence read by

Master Elder. He could hear Ammoncourt arguing but his voice was distant, muted.

 

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“Rarely among our own people is such a heinous crime committed. Into consideration must

be taken the victim, being a servant to our counsel and community for a time greater than

even Grand Master Elder Alvero. It is because of the severity of the crime as well as the

loss our world has incurred as a result, that I recommend to the counsel that James

Lochlan Stuart IV be immediately exiled to The Never.”

“You cannot do this,” cried Ammoncourt, no longer stooped over his cane. “He is the

anointed one!”

The witnesses in the seating above were in an uproar. Shouting, screaming and even

cries echoed from above. The last thing James heard before James could react or even cry

out was “Banish him.” All sound fell into a void as he was engulfed in a spiral of purple

smoke and lifted from the only world he had ever known.