Chapter XLIII

The years had not been kind to Professor Zebedee. When Sarahi had last seen him sixteen years ago he was already getting on in years, but now he seemed so ancient to her eyes. Under his eyes were bags of darkened skin, his face was covered in lines, his mustache was gray and scraggly, his nose wrinkled, jowls hung off his cheeks; when had he gotten so old? Sarahi hadn't changed that much in sixteen years, had she?

Zebedee was busy helping refugees set up their bedrolls. All of the dorm rooms and guest rooms had been filled, and now bedrolls were rolled out in the hallways, in the classrooms, in the training halls. Zebedee couldn't possibly have been happy about classes coming to a complete halt.

“Professor Zebedee?” Sarahi said as she walked up to him.

The old professor looked up at her, squinted a moment, and then said, “Sarahi? My! But it has been quite the long while, hasn't it? You've grown. How old are you now, thirty-two?”

“Thirty-three,” Sarahi said.

“Why do I find you among the refugees from Aius? And unarmed at that?”

“I've not come here as a refugee, professor. I've come here because I want a trial in the Court of Accusations.”

Zebedee gasped hearing her say this. “The Court of Accusations? So...you've...fallen from grace, then? Did you murder someone? Steal something? Engage in lechery?”

“Does it matter?” Sarahi asked. “Every paladin who completes training here has a right to a trial the Court of Accusations if they should do something that causes them to lose their powers. I have that right, Zebedee, and I'm invoking it now.”

Zebedee glanced around at the refugees in the hall, several of them listened in on the conversation. The Court of Accusations was not common knowledge to the people of Arx, or anyone outside of the clergy, in large part because of how dangerous it was. “Let's speak privately, in my office,” Zebedee said.

When they got to his office, though, there were already refugees set up in there as well, bedrolls rolled out in front of his desk. “Pardon me, good folks, but would you be so kind as to give us a moment alone?” Zebedee asked.

The refugees exchanged glances with one another, and then got up to leave the room. One of them said, “Anything you want, we're just grateful you're letting us stay here.”

Once they'd left Zebedee took his seat and pulled out his smoking pipe, stuffing dried green, brown, and black leaves into it. “Close the door, please,” he said.

Sarahi closed the door and latched it, then took her seat across from him. Zebedee lit his pipe and breathed in the smoke. The aroma was somewhere between mint, vanilla, peanuts, and a skunk. Sarahi never quite understood how Zebedee could handle it, let alone breathe it in so deeply and enjoy it.

“Of your little group of friends, Sarahi, you were the last one I expected to ever have need of the Court of Accusations,” Zebedee said, rocking in his chair and puffing his pipe. “Would have thought maybe that rabble, Milo, would have been the one-”

“Milo has proven himself righteous again and again, Zebedee. He always was. He acted out in your class because he knew you were judging him for his low birth.”

Zebedee shrugged, “It gave him the drive he needed to be better. It's true, then, that you and he are the Queen's true parents? Is that your sin? Adultery? Have you been without your powers these past sixteen years and only now are seeking to become a paladin again?”

“No. Milo was my true husband. My marriage to Hadar was false, a show for the masses. As I said, my sin is irrelevant.”

“You think it will be any easier in the Court of Accusations? The Accuser is...less than kind, and the jury is made up of angels, who have little sympathy for human shortcomings. The Accuser will bring what you have done to the surface, before the whole court, and you will be humbled, perhaps even broken. If you're ashamed of what you've done you'd better start dealing with the shame now, it will make the trial easier on you.”

Sarahi sighed. He was right, she knew it. “I told my daughter to execute someone who'd done no wrong.”

“Why?”

“Because I was worried about the wrong that person might do.”

“Premature punishment for sins not committed. You know that's not what paladins stand for.”

“I know.”

“And had you been anyone else God would not be as furious with you as he undoubtedly was, but you were sworn in as a knight of the Church, a member of the clergy. You vowed to protect the innocent, made many vows of righteousness and Lawfulness. As such you are held to a higher standard.”

“I know.”

“Are you certain you want to go into the Court of Accusations, though?” Zebedee asked. He puffed his pipe again and uncomfortably crossed his legs. “You could live the rest of your life as you are, just another woman, no longer a paladin.”

“No!” Sarahi said. “I need to be a paladin again. I need this!”

“Why? Have you become so addicted to the power?”

“I need it in order to protect my little girl.”

“Little girl?”

“She may be fifteen, and the Queen, but she will always be my little girl. I need the power to keep her safe.”

“You do know that many paladins who enter the Court of Accusations die, right? Even those whom the Court decides not to sentence to death are often driven so mad by having their sins poured out before them that they take their own lives.”

“I know.”

“And you know that the Accuser doesn't limit his attacks just to what you've actually done wrong, but to what you feel guilty about as well, right? He uses your doubts, and even the wrong you perceive. The wrong you THINK you’ve done.”

“I'm ready to face it,” Sarahi said. “And I have the right! You will not deny me this right. You will take me to the Court of Accusations immediately.”

Professor Zebedee sighed and dumped the ashes out of his pipe. “Very well, but should anything terrible happen to you your blood is on your own hands, not mine.”

“I absolve you of any sin involved in leading me into danger.”

“You can't do that, you are neither paladin nor priestess,” Zebedee said with a wry smirk. He stood from his old rocking chair again. The wood gave an audible creak. “Follow me.”

Zebedee and Sarahi pushed their way through the halls of Caelum Academy. The paladin academy was built of bricks of various precious stones. Each of them gleamed all sorts of different colors. Bricks of emerald, bricks of ruby, bricks of onyx, bricks of sapphire, and bricks of diamond all made up these walls. In the main hall there was even a fountain, encased in glass, of liquid stone, which lit up the room. The geomancers of Arx who built this academy centuries ago considered it their magnum opus, and it was truly even more magnificent than the Grand Cathedral itself.

The room where they were going was one of the few rooms Sarahi had never seen, aside from the insides of some of the other dorm rooms. The door leading into the Court of Accusations was large and made of quartz crystal, too thick for anyone to see through it. Only a select few professors even had the key to that room, and Zebedee was one of these few. The key itself was made of onyx, and he slipped it into a small hole in the door. “Stand back!” he said to all of the refugees nearby. Some of the cadets who had been helping the refugees there get settled held them back, just in case any were foolish enough to attempt to enter the dark hallway on the other side of the door. “This is as far as I can go, Sarahi. The door will close behind you, and it will open again when the Court deems you worthy. Obviously, if they never deem you worthy, or if they deem you guilty, this is the last we will see of you.”

“Understood. Thank you, Zebedee,” Sarahi said. She gave Zebedee a brief hug and he, reluctantly, returned the gesture, patting her on the back. He’d never been one for these sentimental moments.

“Off with you now, girl. You wanted this, so it's time to face it.”

Sarahi nodded and parted from Zebedee, stepping into the darkness. True to Zebedee's word, the door slammed shut behind her, and Sarahi was left in almost total darkness.

A voice so deep Sarahi felt her chest and the ground vibrate as it spoke rang through the hallway. “Walk.”

Sarahi slowly walked forward in the darkness. Her surroundings were pitch-black, but she could feel along the wall in the hallway. As she progressed forward she could feel the air get colder and colder, and in a moment she realized that the ground was slightly at a decline, leading downward ever so slightly.

“Stop!” the voice rang, and Sarahi obeyed. “In front of you a stairway begins. The steps are even. Walk slowly, have faith in what I tell you, and you will not fall.”

Sarahi felt with her foot until she could feel the first stair. With a hand on the wall for support she began the slow descent down the flight of stairs, which she soon realized was a spiral staircase. The only sounds in that blackness were the sound of her own breathing, her heartbeat, and her slow, deliberate footsteps.

The silence was broken after what seemed like an eternity. “You are at the bottom of the stairs. Two more steps and then it's even floor.”

Sarahi progressed the two steps down and then felt forward with her foot, making sure she had, indeed, reached the bottom. Once she was certain she was on even ground she took a few more steps forward, and suddenly heard the sound of the ground moving beneath her feet.

In a flash the room was illuminated. It was a huge, round room, with glass making up the walls, floor, and ceiling. The spot where she was standing was a small, floating disk of stone over an impossibly deep chasm. The light illuminating the room seemed to come from the walls themselves, or, rather, the diamond faces on the walls. Yes, embedded into the walls were what appeared to be the statues of human faces, made of diamond, with sapphire, emerald, or ruby eyes. The faces themselves glowed and filled the room with a violet light.

In the center, standing in front of her, with a similar stone disk under his feet, was one of the angels, though this one looked far different than any of the others she'd seen before. Sure, the shape was the same. He was shaped like an androgynous human being without hair and with great, feathered wings coming from his back. However, instead of being made out of diamond, as most other angels were, he appeared to be made of a combination of obsidian and onyx. The ends of his fingers extended into points, like blades or claws. Protruding from his head were ten spike-like horns, arranged like a crown. Most terrifying of all was the way in which his eyes were different from the other angels’. His eyes truly looked like human eyes, set in his otherwise purely obsidian body. They were soft, fleshy, and wet, just like a human's eyes. They were a shade of bronze-brown, and their gaze was piercing. The mere sight of him was enough to make Sarahi shake like she was a little girl afraid of imaginary monsters in her closet. She felt so small in front of this towering, black angel. Truly the tales of the Accuser were not exaggerated, none had even come close to describing the real thing.

“Sarahi,” the Accuser spoke, his voice the same, deep voice she'd heard before. Up close the reverberations shook through her bones, and each word he spoke sent ripples through her. “Years ago you vowed to live a life of righteousness, to uphold the Law, to protect the innocent. Did you forget your vows?”

“No!” Sarahi said. “I have not forgotten my vows!”

“And yet you broke them.”

“And yet I broke them,” Sarahi repeated.

“As you know, paladins who break their vows are punished. Their powers are stripped. However, should you wish to gain those powers back you will be put to judgment. You are already guilty, your innocence or guilt is not for this court to decide. Instead they are merely here to decide whether or not you deserve your abilities back, whether or not you deserve to be a paladin. By coming down here you have taken a huge risk, for if this court decides you have committed a gross breach of your vows, as well as heinous crimes against the Law, you will be sentenced to death. Look down, Sarahi.” Sarahi looked down over the edge of the small stone disk on which she stood, down into the infinite blackness below. “Should this court sentence you to death you will fall. The stone beneath your feet will become sand and you will plunge into those depths to die. I do not tell you this so that you can turn back, it is already too late for that. I tell you this so you will understand what is at stake in this court, what fate likely awaits you. Few who come into this court for redemption find it.”

“I understand.”

“Should you fail to cooperate with my questioning you will be sentenced immediately, do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good. Let us begin. Tell the court what sin you committed which led to you losing your abilities as a paladin.”

Sarahi looked up at the faces that lined the curved walls, all of their eyes fixed on her. “I advised my daughter to execute someone who'd done no wrong.”

“Tell them why.”

“I was afraid of what the woman might do. I was worried that because she was the late King Amasi's daughter she would start a civil war in a bid to take the throne...which...is what's happening.”

“So that justifies it, you think? Had Mahla been executed Arx would not be plunged into civil war as it is? You're not saying it, but you are thinking it,” the Accuser said. “You are wrong, it does not justify that. Not only is it wrong to execute innocent people because of what they MIGHT do, but your advice is actually what led to the civil war in Arx to begin with! As you know, the noble houses of Arx were already looking for reasons to hate your daughter, and they were finding plenty of them. When the assassin who killed Paolo claimed to be working for Mahla Aryn did not bother to find out the truth. Because of what you said about Mahla being a threat to her power Aryn saw the accusation as an excuse to execute someone she already knew was a threat. Had she not already been thinking about having Mahla killed she would have been more cautious with her accusations. Even now she convinces herself Mahla is guilty just so that she can justify having her killed. It was her attempt to kill Mahla that gave the nobility the extra push they needed to rebel. With a few thoughtless words, Sarahi, you started a war. How many will die because of your sin?”

Sarahi fell to her knees as this hit her. The Accuser was right, the entire war could be traced back to her sin. Had she never told Aryn to kill Mahla the civil war wouldn't have begun. Arx was in shambles because of what she said. “Please...I didn't mean to...”

“Thoughtless words. Heartless words,” the Accuser shook his head. “When will you learn how much harm your words can cause? More sins are mere words than actions, it seems.”

“I...I only said what I said because I love my daughter, and because I love Arx!”

“You held your daughter's needs as higher than a stranger’s. Selfish love. A corruption of what love is supposed to be. Do you know how many children will lose mothers and fathers because of this war? How many mothers will lose daughters?”

Sarahi was at an utter loss for words. She wanted to speak, but not a single word would come out. She could barely even breathe.

“And that is just the sin which was deemed one too far,” the Accuser said. “Let us take a look at your other sins, shall we? The ones we were willing to forgive before this. Yes, I think these will give us great insight into your character. Remember when Hadar died? What was the first thing you did when you were crowned ruler of Arx?”

“I...I led a campaign into Nihilus to get justice.”

“Justice?” the Accuser asked. “Was it truly justice you were after? Sure, you might have achieved justice, but what was really in your heart? A young man who had been your friend since you were a child had just been murdered. What was really on your mind? Be honest with us.”

“Revenge...” Sarahi said.

“Revenge. Are paladins sworn to take revenge on their enemies?”

“No.”

“What are they sworn to do?”

“Uphold justice.”

“Right. It was excused at the time because often the line between justice and vengeance is thin. It all comes down to where your heart is, and in your heart it was vengeance.”

“I was wrong. I was after vengeance. But…I had mercy on the Nihilite people!”

“At the time. Then years later, after you'd let Duke Jachai take control of Nihilus, you heard that he'd called in the Inquisition to root out rebels. You did nothing. You heard that Jachai was brutally oppressing the Nihilite people. You did nothing. Why did you not stop him?”

“I...I was afraid of the Nihilites rising up again.”

“And?”

“I was angry at them. Thought they deserved to suffer for what they did. They still proclaim Cory as a hero!”

“So you allowed Jachai and the Inquisition to oppress and torment the people of Nihilus. Before the Inquisition had arrived in Nihilus many of their people were converting, coming into the light. Then the Inquisition arrived and Jachai's oppression began. After that the Nihilite rebels had the tools they needed in order to recruit more people to their cause. In the name of vengeance for what had been done to them, and out of fear of their way of life being extinguished thousands more flocked to the Nihilite rebellion. By doing nothing to stop Jachai and the Inquisition you gave the Nihilites what they needed in order to revive their resistance! Do you realize how many people have died in that conflict?”

Sarahi broke into sobs. On her knees she hung her head in shame. Every king and queen feared this day, the day when their decisions would be looked at with such an accusatory eye. Everyone makes mistakes, and when common people made mistakes they simply brushed themselves off and went about their lives. They learned from that mistake. When a queen made a mistake, though, countless people suffered for it. The slightest slip-up, the wrong word at the wrong time could cost hundreds of lives.

“Do you remember why you are here?” the Accuser asked. “Sarahi, do you remember why you are here, in the Court of Accusations?”

“T-to prove that...I'm worthy...”

“And?”

“I'm not,” Sarahi said. “I admit it, I'm not worthy. I was so arrogant coming in here, thinking I could be forgiven. I wanted to face the judgment, and thought I would come out better for it in the end, but you're right. My sins are heavy, too heavy.” Sarahi gasped and sobbed. “Every problem the people I love face today, it's all my fault...all of it. Because I was selfish, because I was vengeful, because I wasn't the paladin I should have been. Because I wasn't the queen I should have been. Because I wasn't the woman I should have been.”

“What would you have us do with you, then, Sarahi? What do you deserve?”

“Just drop me,” Sarahi said. “I'll accept it, because it's what I've earned. Let me fall into that blackness, I know it's what I deserve. I was such a fool for coming here. Just promise me I’ll die on impact.”

The Accuser spoke again, but this time his voice had changed, had become softer. It sounded, actually, like the voice of a child. “So long as you understand that you may not be worthy, but you are closer to worthy than most.”

Sarahi looked up at the Accuser as the black obsidian forming his body began to turn to dust and fall into the black oblivion below. Underneath all that black glass that made up the Accuser's body was a much smaller body, like that of a human child, this time with no wings, but made of diamond, like the other angels. The Accuser spoke again, in that same, childlike voice, “Do you know how these trials usually go? Paladins seeking redemption justify everything they did, try to argue that it wasn't really that bad, not really wrong. It becomes clear that they learned nothing from their mistakes, that they would make them again. We cannot give power to people who would use it to evil ends, nor can we suffer such arrogant Agalmites to live. Yes, we hold our faithful to a higher standard, for the world looks at them and judges what is right and wrong based on them.

“You did not come here justifying what you did, Sarahi. You could have. You could have insisted that the Nihilites truly did deserve Jachai's cruelty. You could have insisted that Mahla, being a mercenary, was hardly innocent. You could have pushed the issue of what you said and did because you loved Aryn, claimed that no deed done out of love could be deemed sinful, but you didn't. You accepted that you've done wrong, and you've admitted that you don't deserve forgiveness.”

The Accuser turned to the court and looked upon the faces on the walls. “With your permission, my friends, I would like to grant Sarahi a full pardon. She will have her powers as a paladin returned to her so that she may return to the surface world, stand for justice once more, and protect the young woman whom God has chosen as Queen of Arx. She has done wrong, broken her vows, but the most righteous and Lawful people in Erets are often the ones who make mistakes and learn from them.”

“So may it be,” rang the voices of every angel in the room.

The Accuser floated over to the stone disk Sarahi was kneeling on and helped pull her up to her feet. “Rise, paladin of Caelum, and uphold the Law once again.”