Billy was dragged into the chapel, each arm locked by a guard. They dragged him and Damian like rag dolls down the aisle.

Billy craned his neck up. There were around two dozen people spread across the church pews, and they all ogled at him.

I probably know some of these people. They’ve all come here to watch me like I’m some animal.

Billy vaguely remembered this building, mostly by the smell of burning wax. The rectangular glass windows shone in light from the Northeast, making the front of the church much brighter than the back, and the righthand pews illuminated while the leftside sat in the dark. Up above, staring down at him was that same man in the town square, and through him shone the sunlight which lit up the altar— and he was there.

Okin.

He looked older— of course, Billy did as well— but he was still the same. It was honestly surprising that Okin recognized him- although he pretended not to even know him, which just confirms he did- but it was clear that the Ather was the same boy Billy had grown up with. His hair was cut the same- short, but not shaved, equally straight and long all around. He had the same dignified mannerisms and pious nature.

Okin stood in between two other robed men, one rather muscular for an Ather, with two grey caterpillars above his eyes, and a matching one covering his lips. The other was a young, clean shaved man, whose light blue eyes met Billy’s, and then quickly darted away. Okin’s eyes also met Billy’s, and his expression stayed stoic and unmoved.

Does he have amnesia or something? Or is this just an act?

The guards thrust Billy into the right side pew, breaking his stare. The caravan all squeezed awkwardly into the front pew, Billy and Damian sandwiched in between one guard on each side. Billy squirmed, trying to give himself more legroom; the guard had ample space on his right side, but was intent on keeping the gap tight.

Okin raised his voice after they had settled.

“People of Metheno, it is with a heavy, but hopeful heart that I am here today. I had come to give respects to a man on the day of his Decadem, and was shocked to find that the alleged killers of the fallen had returned to our great city on this very day. I day our, because I myself actually grew up in Metheno.”

The small groupings in the pews looked to each other as to see if anyone knew who this Ather was, although if they did, it would have only been as a child. Most if not all the guests appeared to be the same age or older than Okin.

“I, High Ather Okin, will be the head judge of this court proceeding, and alongside me are High Ather Minos and Ather Lissom, who will also be judges,” Okin said, turning to Billy. “By the Gods, who ensure that all are met with the justice they deserve, may we find the truth behind the death of Lionel Gruissem.”

Billy cringed. The ‘judgement’ of the so-called Gods was just a ploy to make the Athers unquestionable.

“Aventa," the audience and the Athers said in unison.

Okin opened a small book, reading for a few seconds before he asked his first question.

“Do you confirm that you are Billy Gruissem, the only son of Lionel Gruissem of Metheno?”

Billy nodded. “Yes.”

Okin turned to Damian for his next question. “And do you confirm that you are commonly referred to as Damian, and although you had no surname on record, lived with Lionel Gruissem for a portion of your childhood?”

Damian nodded. “Yes.”

“Would you consider Lionel Gruissem to be your surrogate father?” Okin asked.

Billy looked to his friend, he was sure of the answer that would follow.

“Yes," Damian replied.

“And do you," Okin addressed Billy again, “Billy Gruissem, confess that you had involvement in the death of your father?”

Billy looked into Okin’s eyes as he made his response. He wanted to strike the answer into Okin’s heart.

“No, I had no involvement in the death of my father.”

The crowd erupted into incessant chatter, which prompted Okin to turn to the rest of the pews.

“Please, we ask that you remain silent during this proceeding.” The chatter died down.

“Do you, Damian, confess that you had involvement in the death of Lionel Gruissem?”

“No, I had no involvement in his death,” Damian replied.

Okin looked back down to the text, reading for a few seconds. He then whispered to Minos, who nodded.

“We find it unlikely that you had no part in your father’s death,” Minos said. “You had a clear motive and opportunity, and the setting and nature of the murder all points back to you.”

Billy gnarled his teeth. What kind of motive did he have, a helpless teen now in control of an estate which he possessed no knowledge of how to manage?

“Everyone knew that your father was planning to donate a large amount of his wealth to have a new Cathedral constructed here, in Metheno, as well as committing a large part of his fortune towards establishing trade routes with the new Caspoan colonies. These projects would drastically lower the inheritance of the Gruissem estate- of which you were the sole beneficiary,” Minos looked down from the raised altar, giving Billy a scolding stare. “It is rather convenient that your father turned up dead just a few days before either of these contracts were to be signed.”

Anger flared in Billy’s stomach. The fact that this mindless sheep would accuse him of murdering his beloved father only for an early inheritance was outrageous. He stood up valiantly, aiming his voice towards the Athers.

“I would never even think of laying a hand on my father—“

The soldiers reached up to pull Billy down by the shoulders as Okin rose, slamming his hand on the altar.

“It is not your turn to speak, defendant,” he said, his voice calming after the order. “You may continue, High Ather Minos.”

Minos’ moustache curled up as he looked down at Billy, who was now tethered in his seat by the guards.

“Your impulsiveness once makes itself clear. Which also gives credence to the setting and aftermath of the crime- your father was found dead in his own home, his possessions gone. The only other people living in the residence at the time were the two of you, who were never to be seen after the night he was murdered. Only you would know where his possessions were, where he stored his money.”

“May I make a rebuttal?” Billy shouted. The guards’ grip on his arms tightened.

Okin looked to Minos, who nodded. “Yes, you may continue,” he said.

The guards loosened their grip from his arms, and Billy stood up to make his point. “I didn’t take anything! Look at me now- I have nothing!”

“May I present myself as a witness?” A voice from the back of the church made itself clear. Standing up from the back of the pews was that same, devilish old man- Mr. Cantas, Okin’s father.

Okin looked down the pew to his father, and then nodded. “Yes, please come up until you are just in front of the first pew, before the altar.”

What the fuck does he have to say? Why must this nosy old man get his fingers into everything?

Mr. Cantas strode as confidently as a man his age could down the aisle in between the pews, his eyebrows furrowing at Billy as he made his way up, and Billy matched his glare.

Turning to the altar, Mr. Cantas spoke. “This felon has only spoke a few lines since arriving in this church- yet already most of them have been lies. Before arriving at the cemetery, he took a trip to my house, the sly devil. But much like Tregale or any of his followers, the man’s cunning is only outmatched by his impulsiveness. He came to my house, pretending to be just a simple traveler, insisting that I give him whiskey. If he was truly convinced of his innocence, he would see no need to hide his identity- nor that watch of his,” the old man pointed a stubby finger at Billy.

“He says he took nothing of his father’s, well check his wrist! Those who knew Lionel would know that golden watch never left his arm, until his son murdered him and plucked it from his wrist!”

The crowd centered their focus to Billy, urging him to tug down his sleeve and reveal his wrist. The sweat built up from his face as he realized his blunder.

“Defendant Billy. May you please show us your left wrist?” Okin asked.

Grunting, Billy pulled down his shirt sleeve and raised his arm, the golden watch glowed in the misty sunlight.

The audience let out sighs and gasps, and the chatter resumed.

“Please, I ask again that you all remain silent until the trial is over,” Okin commanded. “Do you have anything else to add, witness?”

“Only one more comment,” Okin’s father replied, and his son nodded, giving the go-ahead.

“Lionel was a dear friend of mine, and I am often disheartened when thinking about the tragedy of his son. Some of you may not know this, but Billy was given a gift by the Gods- he was granted the power of Time heraldry. But he didn’t appreciate this gift for what it was worth, just as he didn’t appreciate all that his father had done for him. Just a months before the murder, Billy and his father got into a dispute about whether Billy could go to the new Time Institute in Caspo. His father had previously promised him so, but he reconsidered, but only because the man wanted to spend more time with his son. But the entitled son, who only saw his father as a tool, sought revenge against him for it.”

Billy’s eyes watered, and he hung his head downwards, using his hands to cover his peripherals as he tried to blink away the tears. Behind the altar, the older moustached man and the younger, reptilian-eyed Ather were shaking their heads in disgust. Okin was staring at him directly— not in a judgemental manner, but an investigative one. Billy quickly looked back down to his knees.

“Thank you for your statement," Okin said, and his father bowed to the altar before turning and marching towards the back of the church.

“This question is for Billy," Okin said, and Billy quickly wiped his eyes before peeking out of the pew. “As you profess that you had no involvement in his death, do you know anyone who was involved in the murder of Lionel Gruissem?”

Billy straightened his back and wiped the last droplets from below his eyes. Okin was giving him a chance, maybe it wasn’t over yet. “Yes,” Billy replied. “Synodontis Ty-Shou.”

The entire crowd gasped, and even some of the guards had audible reactions.

“I will remind you again to please, keep the noise to a minimum.” Okin looked to Billy, his eyes now locked with intrigue. “Please, expand on this accusation.”

Billy’s heart boomed inside his chest. “He was visiting Metheno and went to meet my father at our house. As a young boy, I was excited and curious about being able to see the Synodontis. But as I peeked though the door of the room, I saw him murder my father in cold blood,” Billy said.

The Athers looked to Billy in disbelief. The older Ather whispered into Okin’s ear, and he reacted with a nod.

“I believe The Synodontis was in the town at the time. Still, it is a wild accusation, and The Synodontis would have no motive to kill your father.”

Billy squeezed his eyes closed. He heard yelling, but it was indistinguishable what was being said. Something about ‘god’ and ‘son.’ The only thing he could hear clearly was his father yelling ‘You’re nothing!”

And of course, the light. The burning, blinding, light.

Pulling his eyes open, Billy raised himself up. “My father insulted The Synodontis, and for that The Synodontis burned a hole through his face.”

Billy could feel the frustration, the tension coming from the audience who was forced to stay silent, which only fuelled his own rage. The Athers looked to each other again, their unintelligible communication escalating Billy’s nerves. What were they saying? Did they believe his story?

Unexpectantly, a bearded guard who stood outside the pew stepped to the centre of the stage in front of the altar. “Your holiness, may I please present myself as a witness?”

Okin’s attention diverted from his fellow judges to the lone guard. “It will be allowed.”

The guard bowed his head, and then stood back on his feet. “I remember I was just a new recruit to the town guard when we were called into Lord Blu’s house after one of his associates alerted us of his fallen corpse inside his own home. There was much investigation into the cause of death, but it definitely wasn’t any burns or signs of Light Heraldry on his body. He was stabbed,” the guard turned to Billy. “I believe this man is just trying to make an outlandish case to avoid responsibility and send us on a goose chase.”

What? That’s impossible! This guard must be corrupt, or on The Synodontis’ payroll, or is just a dirty asshole who wants to see me hanged.

Okin gave a definitive nod to the guard, who again bowed his head. “Thank you for your statement,” the Ather said. The two judges surrounding him tried to pull him into another conversation, but Okin ignored them, pulling his attention towards the righthand pew, towards Damian.

“Defendant Damian, with your hand to the Gods, do you testify to having seen Synodontis Xing murder Lionel Gruissem?”

“No, I did not witness it,” Damian replied.

Billy’s heart skipped a beat, and his neck twisted towards Damian. The younger man answered without a flinch.

What the fuck is he doing? Does he want to see us get fucking hanged? This is the only fucking opportunity we had to get out of this shit, and he just fucking threw it away!

Sweat poured down Billy’s face as he watched the chatty, judgemental Athers discuss in a huddled group. His face shook with anger.

“Excuse me!” Raising his arm, Billy stood up. The guards at his sides grabbed his shoulders in an attempt to pull him down, but Okin gestured to Billy, causing the guards to let up as he made his statement.

“May I request that the guards stand outside this pew? They are making it quite difficult for me to present my defence, being so close and all.”

“Request granted,” Okin said, and the guards, shaking their heads, got up and stood on the aisles surrounding the pew.

Billy pulled in Damian close, leaning into his ear.

“Why the fuck did you say that Damian?”

“I’m sorry, Billy. I’m just not comfortable with lying,” Damian whispered.

“But-“

“I really didn’t see The Synodontis kill your father— you got me after you saw it, remember?”

Billy shook his head, his breathing heavy and frantic.

“Whether it was true or not, now there’s no fucking way they’re gonna say we’re innocent. We’re gonna be fucking hanged, Damian. This isn’t a fucking game, this isn’t Apathasawian court where you can just shovel some shit and get off, here, you get fucking hanged.”

Damian’s panicked eyes flashed back and forth from Billy to the row of Athers.

“Defendant Damian. Are you ready to answer another question?”

Damian looked to Billy for an answer, but his friend just scratched his face fearfully.

Wait. It’s not over yet.

Eyes lighting up, Billy leaned into Damian’s ear again.

“Damian. I know, you don’t like doing it. But this- if you don’t use it now, we’re going to fucking die, Damian. You have to try. You have to put it in their heads, you have to.”

“Excuse me,” the older Ather raised his voice. “Are you ready to answer more questions?”

Damian cleared his throat, and then turned to the Athers. “Yes, I am ready to answer more questions.”

“Good,” the elder Ather replied, gesturing to Okin.

Okin looked to Damian as he asked, “As you did not witness Synodontis Xing murdering Lionel Gruissem,”

Damian raised his right hand, placing his index finger and middle finger gently against his temple. Closing his eyes, he pointed his hand forward towards the alter.

“Do you confess to having any role in the murd-“

A stream of darkness rushed out of Damian’s head. A deep obsidian purple, the rootlike streams grew, skyrocketing straight towards the Athers. Cutting across the crowd, the tendrils dissolved into a cloud of flaky ash as it crossed the light from the overhanging glass mural. The Athers ducked below the table , the crowd screamed from behind, and the guards rushed into the pews, dog-piling Damian. Billy stared in horror at his friend, whose convulsing head was engulfed by the surrounding guards.

The moustached Ather stood to his feet. “Guards! Get them out of here!” He shouted, and the guards tied up Damian’s arms behind his back, while others pointed their muskets towards his skull. “I think we’ve heard enough today. May you all please exit the church so we can discuss our decision.”

The audience, many of whom were still holding their faces with mouths wide open, began to frantically make their way for the door. Within a minute, the room was clear, exempt the Athers, the guards, and the two defendants.

Billy took a shaky breath, glancing between the exit and Damian. He counted the steps between himself and the door way, two dozen or so. Maybe it would be possible to for him to make it, but Damian could never. The boy’s brown hair was draped over his eye. Early signs of bruising shut his left eye closed, and two cuts on his lip swelled out.

Billy grimaced. Looking at his friend’s bloodied face he stood down. Making it out alone was the only option, and one not worth half the effort.

Seeing Billy stand down, the guards removed their muskets from Damian’s skull. Slowly, a sigh of relief passed through the Athers as momentary violence calmed down. Were they always such pussies? Billy thought to himself as he eyed the Athers. He expected it from Okin— he always was a wimp— but the other Athers were supposed to be strong, pillars of their society. At least that’s what his father had said.

The three Athers exchanged glances. Minos and Lissom pushed in around Okin, forming a small huddle. Their lips moved wordlessly, passing Billy and Damian’s fortune between them. Billy stood, but urged to inch closer and eavesdrop. But before the urge could overcome him, the three broke their huddle. His old friend’s face was hardened, a dark aurora hanging over him. His eyes were narrowed yet hollow.

“The court has made their decision,” Okin spoke, picking through each word slowly. “Billy Gruissem, Damian, we sentence you to judgement by Aredal.”

Instantly Billy’s rage flared. “Just fucking say it! You’re going to execute us.”

“You will be sent to the Four for judgement, not simply executed. A privilege it appears you father did not have.” Minos said. Looking down the bridge of his nose, his thick eyebrows crunched up in disdain. He waved, motioning for the guards to take them away. The guard behind Damian, jolted him to his feet. At the same time another guard grabbed Billy. He struggled slipping free before the butt of a gun came hard into his spine. Being lay out onto the floor Billy struggled for breath. Gasping he looked up and met Okin’s eyes. The other’s brown eyes looked into his; a mix of disappointment, anger, and sadness. Tears welled there before Okin jerked his head away.

Seeing his old friend pity him, Billy’s rage boiled over. Pushing himself off the ground he started towards Okin. I wonder when you became such a pussy, he thought. He opened his mouth to shout, but was quickly tackled and binded.

Kicking his feet like a petulant child, Billy yelled out his old friend’s name. “Okin! Face me like a fucking man!”

No response came, Okin remained head turned. Instead it was Linnos who spoke. “The necessary preparations will be made. Tomorrow morning you shall be delivered for judgment.”

The other two nodded. Slowly they turned, their black robes fluttering in their wake. Coming down off the stand, the three left without another word.

“Okin! Okin!” Billy continued to scream before he was winded again. A punch from another one of the Rothers. His vision faded as he struggled for breath. His legs limp, Billy was dragged out of the church, beaten but not broken.