“Balance? You talk of balance as if it were that simple. Listen to what I tell you in the simplest terms I can manage. There will never be balance, nor equality, where the Void is concerned. It shall take, and take, and take, leaving behind only an empty shell. And when that’s all there is, it will take that too. You can stave it off for a while, but in the end, why should you even bother?” - Vas Rudin, addressing the Illuminari Council

Chapter 12

After a few hours, Evar Gress took over for Deputy Fant. Trynneia watched him go with relief. She’d seen him around town before and he’d never given her grief. But starting shortly after their apprehension, he’d grown increasingly agitated and antagonistic towards them both. She wanted to believe it only had to do with people being on edge, but wondered if there were more at play than she or Ditan knew.

Ditan for his part remained a silent enigma on the other side of the cell wall. His parents hadn’t returned, and their complete rejection undoubtedly shook him. She had no idea how to console him while she struggled with her own grief. Both were now effectively orphaned, one in fact, the other by practice.

“Tryn?” His voice cut through the silence, drawing Evar’s attention as well. “I think perhaps we miscalculated.” The deadpan delivery after the hours of tension and unease caused all three to chuckle.

Trynneia’s runes cast a dim glow upon her skin, muting her naturally gray tone and pale yellow hair. “I’m so glad he finally left. The deputy had me on edge the whole time with those predator eyes of his. I don’t remember him being so vicious before.”

“His whole family was killed in the attack. Wife and kids. And his parents,” Evar offered, dragging his chair over to sit with the prisoners. “He seemed alright when I was paired with him, but I think he blames you two for everything.”

Sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall, Trynneia looked at him. The sadness in her eyes removed their natural yellow glow, leaving her amber irises visible around narrowed pupils. “And what do you think, Conscript Gress?” She ran her fingers through her hair, catching on a small twig that had snarled it. “Do you hate us too?”

“Naw, Tryn,” he sighed. “Now, I’m not sure ya didn’t kill anyboddy, but I don’t think it were intentional if ya did, if ya catch my drift. I imagine ye’ve been under a right lot of strain of late, though. We all have. There’s a lot of cry out for a culprit, and for now yer all the most likely, it seems.” He leaned back at ease in his chair. “Also for wot it’s worth, I saw how yer put out that fire, Ditan, and I warrant these bars won’t hold ya, if’n you set yer mind to it.”

The goblin peered through the bars, gripping them lightly. “I don’t care to try it, so don’t worry. I’ll face justice, even if I’d rather not.” Looking up at his jailor, he snapped his fingers. “However, I wasn’t about to ask Fant for food, and I’m sure I speak for Tryn too if I say we’re both starving. Got anything to eat?”

“Har, always thinkin’ with yer stomach, eh? Fair enough, fair enough.” He got up and started going through some cabinets. “I think we’ve got some bread or somethin’ around here. Better than nothing.” Evar found some passable crusts of bread, and gave them to the prisoners. Trynneia accepted his offering graciously, but Ditan eyed it with suspicion.

She bit into her portion, crunching through an over-hard outer crust and forcing herself to chew through the rubbery bread. Evar quickly brought water to the two, seeing their difficulty. If she hadn’t been famished and a prisoner, she would have gone elsewhere for food, leaving a sour note for the baker. For what it was, it seemed like a feast.

The magistrate returned now that the suns had both set, removing a light jacket he wore against a chill growing with the waning of the day. He retrieved the evidence box once more and dug out the totem. Trynneia eyed his actions with concern as he pulled a small paper from his breast pocket, unfolded it, and set it beside the bundle of sticks. He patted the totem and approached the cells with a ponderous gait.

“I’m sure you’re curious where I’ve been,” he started. “What do you make of this drawing?” He held it up, the various creases having smudged portions of the etching.

Trynneia reached through the cell bars to grab it, and saw a very detailed pencil sketch of the totem. The runes had been traced, with annotations denoting color and style of string binding the sticks together. Near the bottom were speculations on the purpose of the totem as well as the location where it was found. Her heart sank.

“This was made where the first murder occurred,” she said. The magistrate nodded. “I don’t understand.”

“Well that’s just it, young Trynneia. You see, I also don’t understand. When I saw it had been in your possession, I instantly thought of that crime scene. I spent the last few hours tracking down the deputy in charge that day. In addition to collecting evidence, several sketches were made, including this one. This was unique enough a second copy was made so we could look further into it.”

He looked at her, rubbing his jaw, brow furrowed in contemplation. “I really must know how this piece of evidence was removed from our custody and came to be in your possession. Because now I have proof that you and this item were both at the first murder scene, where you were the ‘first witness,’ and then another murder occurs at your own home, which was subsequently destroyed. The same object in your possession.”

Trynneia dropped what remained of her bread. “I didn’t know you’d had it,” she said, her pulse racing. She recalled a dream, her first vision, and how the halo had surrounded the totem. This is bad, she thought. This connects me to that first murder and I had nothing to do with it.

“So you have no explanation? No alibi? Your story doesn’t add up, and I have reason to believe you were responsible for the first murder. If you could do that, what stops you from killing again? Was it just the two? How many people did you kill in our village in murderous retribution for your mother?”

Several thoughts went through her mind. First, he didn’t know about the woman who had been incinerated, or he would have referred to that. Second, she could plead self defense; he didn’t know she’d been attacked. Three-

“I took it for her,” Ditan said. “I came back in the chaos after the village was attacked, and took the totem.” Oh, Ditan, no! She didn’t want to believe it, couldn’t believe it. Actually…

“Prove it to me!” the magistrate taunted, stalking back to the desk to retrieve the totem. “I don’t think you can even hold this thing, the way it captivated you earlier.” He thrust it into Ditan’s cell, daring the goblin to take it. Ditan reached for it hesitantly.

“No!” Trynneia spoke up, trying to shift Ditan’s claim to herself. “The woman took it. I never really saw her face, just heard her voice. She baited me with it while I was hiding out, after mom was… After mom. There were two of them, they both attacked me. I fought them in self defense at home. I’m responsible for what happened there. I swear to you I had nothing to do with the first murder.”

The magistrate looked between the two of them. Evar Gress was scribbling notes at the desk, no doubt struggling to record what everyone was saying. “I know nothing of this extra woman you mention, so she must have escaped. This is one of the tougher cases I’ve had to deal with in all my time here, considering the body count. Either one or both of you continues to lie to me because your stories don’t match up and make no sense.” He clasped his hands in front of him, tapping his index fingers together on his lips.

“There may be other murderers out there,” Trynneia blurted, hoping to make him consider the possibility.

“Well, since we only have your word there was a woman involved, I suppose someone could be out there, but I have no other evidence you were attacked by anyone and-”

“A dead body at the grounds of my house isn’t good enough? You know my mother, and you know me, magistrate! You can’t possibly think of a reason for me to kill someone in cold blood.”

“I do know you, and I can’t think of a reason for you to kill two people in cold blood either, or murder half the city. Here’s what I do know. Evidence placing you at the scene of two murders, a confession for one of them, additional motive being ‘angry and distraught at losing her mother,’ and your Lightblessed heritage potentially giving you the power to act with impunity. As well, your friend here has been seen by several eyewitnesses including his parents in multiple acts of theft and a blatant act of utilizing pagan powers without sanction of the Light or this village.”

"I was using my powers to protect the Chapel of the Light!" Ditan shouted, but the magistrate ignored him in favor of approaching Trynneia.

He came right up to the bars of her cell with a hard look in his eye and a stern face. “Off the record,” he said, keeping his tone low and for her ears only. “It is known that your mother forsook her duties by having carnal relations with the village shaman. By this I mean your mother lost Light’s sanction in exchange for his pagan favor.” Tears of shame and hatred both welled up in Trynneia’s eyes as he continued. “Every effort was made to spare you this truth, but in light of her passing, I felt it necessary that you know. Or did you already? Driver’s home was found destroyed late this afternoon, with him missing. Did you seek revenge upon him too?”

“That can’t be true,” she whispered, quivering. “You take that back. You take that back!” Yet something told her it was. Words Driver had spoken. Succor and comfort in exchange for the tea…Is that what he’d meant? The curious look he’d given her… Trynneia’s runes blazed in full metallic gold, reflecting its own light as well as illuminating her cell. The magistrate stepped back from her fury, still unafraid. “That’s my mom you’re talking about. Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me!” she yelled. Her hands gripped the bars of her cell, pulsing in time with her illumination. Hardened iron shattered in response.

“There it is,” he said calmly. “Thank you, that’s all I needed from you. Evar, you are my witness to her display of utilizing the Light with an act of aggression. I trust you documented the goblin’s admission of guilt for theft as well?”

“Yessir, everthing’s in order, sir,” Evar corroborated.

“Very well. I need nothing else this evening. Thank you. I will pronounce sentencing in the morning.” The magistrate retrieved his jacket. “Have a nice evening, Evar,” he said as he departed.

“What in the Light just happened?” asked Ditan once the door shut.

“I think we just killed ourselves,” Trynneia replied.