Hours went by and the cells grew emptier and emptier, and her belly grumbled louder and louder. Apparently, the king or whoever was on the Seat of Judges were flushing through the supposed criminals fast and precise. Most likely aiming to wrap cases up before the Royal Luncheon that led to other festivities.

Mageia paced the cell, nerves bubbling into a boil upon every minute that flew by.

"Holy beloved Dawnis, god of life and death, grant me mercy and relieve me from the clutches of death," she prayed. "Holy beloved Mesori, goddess of fortune, intercede on my behalf and grant fortune on my life. Holy beloved... gods of the Serene... whoever finds favor with me, please give me strength and wisdom in this situation."

She recalled her last ordeal, standing in the halls of the Royal Court and how everyone was shouting so loud she thought she'd go deaf. She was separated from her mom who knelt in a line of people who tried leaving Ardania after sparking rebellions against the Crown and the Laws. They also accused her mom of committing and concealing sorcery after discovering her with purple eyes. Mageia was only nine years old and had lived most of her lifespan in the house and in her tower, hidden from people.

I want you to keep a promise for me, her mom would say every night when she put her to bed.

The same promise mama?

The same, she'd say. Promise me, you will keep these things a secret no matter what happens. Your surname Holt and your birthmark until the gods reveal it first.

I don't understand. How will the gods reveal it?

I don't know, maybe by someone else who figures it out. But you must promise me you will keep this promise.

I promise, she said, and her mom would kiss her cheeks and leave her to dream in her tower.

Her mom was strange, but it never destroyed the love they shared nor broke their trust. That is why she knew she mustn't tell the Court anything about herself. Especially having the knowledge that someone in the palace had betrayed and assassinated her father. No matter how much they try to pry it from her mouth, she must trust only herself at this point.

My family needs me alive. She reviewed her statement and how she must behave once her time arrived.

The door at the end of the hall unbolted and the thunder of boots flooded in again. Mageia's mouth went desert dry, and her heart murmured close to faint. The cell door was opened, and she was yanked out and shuffled to the doors of the Court. Clashing of voices could be heard on the other side of the door. She held her breath hoping she looked presentable enough to stand before royalty. The guards opened the doors, and she was shoved to keep walking. Citizens, waiting for their time in the spotlight, fell silent.

The muggy smell of sweaty bodies clunked together created a nauseated taste in her mouth and throat. She took a step back, eyes scanning every nook and cranny for a way to escape but saw none. Soldiers were everywhere, and the only pathway was to the throne, for a rope had been risen to keep the crowd at a reasonable distance from the royals.

The Halls of the Royal Court had not changed since the last time she entered through the doors of the Doomed. It still had its high ceilings and windows creviced in shades of white, silver, and green that gave the room a happy appeal. Lining the stone walls were pillars sculpted in fine sharp designs with paintings and carvings of both the realm and the kingdom's history. Green and silver silky drapes hung everywhere daunting the kingdom's blossoming emerald tree sigil. The gray marbled floor shimmered under the sunlight pouring in from the windows onto everyone even the royal family sitting on a dais of stones.

On a sunny day as this, there were no need to light the torches, the lanterns, or the glass chandeliers above. And though the throne room was possibly the most beautiful part of the entire palace, it was also the most disturbing. A place where laws and justice were passed and executed, opening the doors to nothing good, but death and heartache to those too afraid to stand up and say so.

A fist was pressed into her back to force her to walk. She clenched her fist glaring at the green carpet worn from constant tread, that looked to have never been changed. As she approached the inclined circle of six judges and the throne, their strong colognes drifted into the muggy odor but did nothing to appease it.

Mageia gasped seeing she had the attention of the king himself. A memory quickly flashed before her eyes, seeing the cruel-hearted King Thaddeus scolding her from the highchair. Except this time, it was his only son, King Dimitri Arlon. He had the company of his wife, Queen Saia, his stepson Prince Gideon, and youngest stepdaughter Princess Relana, all waving exquisite fans to fight the heat and reduce the smell. Annoyance was chiseled into their perfect faces, blessed to them by the gods. Exhaustion hung under their eyes, the sweat glazing their faces. They looked almost like the fancy glass dolls that were created and sold in town.

It made her grin inside thinking how one crack in their beauty and their glorious strength could be what relieves them of their crown. Just like the late Queen Nari Arlon who met her first fate when the hem of her dress brushed against a chimney and caught on fire. The burn marks could have been hidden if it hadn't reached her neck and face. Heartbroken and terrified that the gods were not pleased with her being Fair, she met her second fate and slit her wrists.

"Purple Thief," King Dimitri Arlon bellowed snapping her back to the situation at hand.

Mageia forced a stern expression at the ruthless bulk of a king who not only loved to induce his muscular appearance but sending people to their deaths. This heartless man had sat beside his father as he condemned her and her mom to death.

"Have you no respect for the Crown?"

She scolded knowing exactly what he was talking about. She grabbed hold of the sides of her peasant dress and did a quick curtsey. The swiftness of it was immediately interpreted as mockery and aroused muttering in the crowd behind her.

Stop it Mageia or they will dismiss you to death before you have a chance to defend yourself, the reasoning side of her conscious spoke.

King Dimitri's eyebrow raised, and his eyes narrowed. "You, like many other bandits who manage to stay hidden within the walls of our kingdom, have a very long record."

So, what, burn them.

"Your unnatural eyes are not something people so easily forget."

Thanks to the gods.

"Which I can admit are quite intriguing, having this our first acquaintance."

What? Mageia wanted to say. How can you forget me? It's only been eight years.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Um... no," she said uncertain of whether to mention her pass failed execution and decided not to. It'd only add on to suspicions of sorcery.

"Then answer my question."

"Can you repeat it please?"

"What is your name?"

"Mageia Unknown," she said.

"Unknown? I'm guessing that means you have no surname?"

"That is correct, Your Highness."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"Your thieving and breakouts precede you. For the record, how long have you been in this illegal business?"

"For seven and a half years..."

"And do you have any reasons for your actions other than the obvious opposition to the Laws and the Crown?"

"We needed food and necessities."

"Food and necessities? The very things a Strange would receive by legal means."

"Like slavery you mean or begging?" she scolded.

The King narrowed his eyes. "Everyone must pay their debts somehow, Fair and Strange, correct?"

"Honestly, Your Highness. It could be done excluding slavery."

"So, what do you suggest?"

"Paid servitude," she said and heard a few people shout their agreement.

"Hmm," he said studying her to the point Mageia prayed his thoughts were positive. "Are you a soother? A gift from the gods?"

She shifted feet but answered confidently. "I don't know, Your Highness."

A couple of chuckles arose from the crowd and two of the judges exchanged dark smirks.

"So, you don't know if you are a gift or a curse?" said a judge with fuzzy white hair and a beard trimmed into a sharp point off his chin. When she shook her head no, he scuffed. "That's ridiculous. Highly impossible. You must know what you are, you're near full grown."

"Judge Criily and Your Highness, may I speak," Commander Eron Shadar spoke from the chairs of nobles behind the right panel of judges.

"You may, Commander," the King said.

Mageia groaned as the Fiisen approached a podium wearing another one of his daunting uniforms and cloak. If he wasn't known to be so cruel hearted, she'd have thought he was soothing to the eyes.

"When I heard of her capture and what her vagabond friends had done-," he said, "I went to interrogate her, hoping it would reveal a sooth and found none. She is as mortal as anyone in this room."

"Can you attest for this, Master Joras?" the King said.

Mageia followed the King's gaze to the master physician sitting on the front row. He stood and looked a bit flabbergasted.

"Your Highness?" he said.

"Did you not visit the Taefo earlier this morning? I received word that you were spotted there, no doubt visiting this girl out of curiosity, I assume."

"Um...Yes. That is correct," he said replacing the Commander at the podium. He caught eyes with Mageia whose gut churned realizing this man could be the strike she needed to meet the Dais again.

"I-I found nothing suspicious or interesting except her -obviously her eyes and that she had begun to heal of her wounds. Nothing else, Your Highness."

"Begun to heal, you say?" Eron said giving Mageia a dangerous glare. "The girl was near to death last night. Yet here she stands, awake and full energized as if no harm was placed upon her."

"I did give her some amberia leaves this morning for the pain," Master Joras said to Mageia's surprise. Why was he trying to help her?

"Still, something is not right here," Eron said and began to approach with intentions.

Mageia backed away only for two guards to push her back into place. Before she knew it the Fiisen was upon her, grabbed the right side of her collar, and ripped it down to expose her shoulder.

"How dare you," she squealed.

"Commander, mind your manners," the King said as Eron scanned her shoulder.

"Witchcraft," Eron barked backing away from her as if she was poisoned. The crowd behind her arose with mutterings and shuffling as people stepped backwards.

"No," Mageia said.

"What was that, Commander? Explain yourself?"

"I interrogated the girl. She had an arrow in her shoulder. That shoulder. But the wound is near gone. How is that possible?"

"I am not a witch," she said heart skipping of this inevitable accusation.

"Silence," the King ordered and when the noise subsided a bit he continued. "Then what are you?"

"I told you, I don't know," she said.

"Are you an outsider?"

"No. I was born here in Ardania."

"Where in Ardania?"

"Uh..." she said realizing she hadn't thought of that answer before. "Strana," she said hoping it'd be acceptable.

"You're lying," Eron said red eyes flickering dark.

How can he tell? She thought and shook her head.

"No, I am not."

"Who are your parents? Are they still alive?" Judge Criily asked.

"No. They are dead."

"Who were they?" the King said.

"Um... I'm not obliged to say."

"And why not?" the King said.

"Because they're dead and it does not matter."

"I assume whoever they were hid you from Checkings and the Court, or simply left you somewhere to die," Judge Criily said.

"No, they died of natural causes leaving me to defend for myself."

"You're lying," she heard Eron mutter under his breath.

"Are from an Elven line you wish not disclose?" the King said.

"No. I don't think so," she said shifting feet.

"Are you a magician?" the King said.

"No."

"Are you sure you have no sooth? Mind you, if you do it could help your case," the King said to her surprise.

"If I had a sooth, believe me, it'd be the first thing I'd present to the Court."

"She must be born from sorcery," someone shouted from the crowd stirring it awake again.

"Silence," the King said.

"Honey, the girl is a nobody and probably deals with sorcery with her Strange friends," Queen Saia said with a humored smile.

"Not true," Mageia said.

"I would like to test her myself," Prince Gideon said giving her a flirtatious wink. Mageia scrunched her nose and her gut flipped.

"No. We are going to handle this case once and for all," the King said eyes narrowed in thought. "Can you give any answer, any reason for your purple eyes?"

My parents said I was special.

Mageia shrugged, uncertain of how to defend her eyes. Of all the years thieving, she never took time to think of anything to explain them.

"Do you think yourself pure?" the King said.

"I do," she said though many scuffs echoed throughout the Hall.

"She is not pure. Look at her criminal record. She must face the consequences of her actions," Eron said.

"Mind you, Commander. I can ask whatever I please," the King said. She heard Eron grumble something as he continued. "Do you think yourself a hero?"

"No."

"A god?"

"Definitely not," she said.

"A sorceress?"

"No. I am simply a thief and a Strange who possessed something called a heart and empathy to save children from an unnecessary death."

"They were sacred," Queen Saia said. "Can you believe this?"

"Hush it Saia," the King ordered with a dismissive hand. The curly blond made a spoiled disgusted face and clasped her hands upon her lap. "You had no right to steal sacrifices from the Crown and the Priesthood, especially on such an important night. You have interfered with one of the kingdom's holy sacrifices to the gods."

"I doubt the gods care," she said only to regret it because everyone grumbled their disagreement.

"She has no respect or honor to the gods," Queen Saia said with a chuckle. "No wonder she's cursed with those eyes."

"She also has no respect or honor to the Crown," Eron added.

King Dimiti's face seemed to shrivel more and more in disgust for Mageia and she could just feel her chances of escaping execution was growing slim.

"Strange girl. Do you regret what you've done?" the King said.

"No," she said. "And would I do it again? Of course, I would because you were in the wrong." Muttering and gasps arose seeing her bravery to say such a thing to a royal.

"How dare you," Queen Saia said but her son's smile stretched into a beam.

"Watch yourself Strange," Eron growled.

"Please explain how I was in the wrong?" the King said eyes darkening with fury.

"You amended the law to exclude executing children and yet you did not heed it. You went by the words of some old priest to satisfy your own indulges for blood."

"I am king? I make decisions on behalf of the well-being of this kingdom."

"If you cared so much about the well-being of your kingdom then why are you and your loyal subjects profiting off the unfortunate circumstances of sickness, deformities, and injuries?"

"You have no right to question the Crown," Eron said.

"What's the purpose of having a crown when you don't heed the voices of your subjects?" she said but glared at Eron instead.

"Mind who you speak too, Strange," Eron said hand gripping the hilt of his sword.

"Silence Eron, allow the Strange to speak and bury herself."

Mageia scolded with annoyance. "You Fairs and Royals think you're so high and holy and untouchable, but Fair or Strange, we all are still mortals, and we should not be held accountable for physical and mental misfortune. For two hundred years we've reverenced a law of cruel discrimination based off some ridiculous prophecy that may or may not be true. Only to what? Fill your pockets with bloody peeks? Yes. I stole from people, but not from everyone. My family only stole from the fools who enjoy watching people's heads being chopped off."

"These laws have governed this kingdom well for centuries," Eron barked.

"Oh, whatever comes out your mouth is nothing but a joke," she snapped at the Commander whose chest puffed up in rage. A few veins around his eyes spewed red with the desire to burn her alive right then and there. He managed to take a step or two to do something to her, but the King ordered him to stand down.

She raised her chin in defiance at the soother and could feel his heat penetrating from his pores.

Yeah, stand down like a good little servant, she wanted to say.

"You speak so well to be just a thief," the King said, slow, steady, and thoughtful.

"Anyone with any sense would say the same," she quickly said.

"Yet... so familiar..." he grumbled massaging his beard as his mind dug for a faint memory, she prayed he would not remember.

Oh no. What if I sound like my parents? Some of these people might have worked with my father or allowed my opinionated mother to speak before her death.

Queen Saia scuffed. "This Strange is wasting our time, Dimitri. Make a decision so we can move on."

"Hush woman, I'm trying to think," he said receiving a roll of the queen's big ice blue eyes.

"May I speak, Your Highness?" Eron said.

"I suppose so," he said but not happily.

"This Strange," Eron said stabbing a finger into her face, "-sorceress or not was a danger and a nuisance to the cities for eight years."

"What danger?" she said. "We just took things in order to survive."

"Her so-called family are still out there along with the twelve sacreds," Eron said. "I say we give her a deal."

"And what would that be?"

Eron glared at Mageia. "The location of her hideout in exchange for the Crown's final sentence."

"I will never give up my family," she scolded at him.

"She has spoken. She must be punished according to the Laws and the Crown."

"And what do you suggest Eron? Death?" the King said.

Mageia shivered but kept her composure.

"You've heard her speak the tongue of resistance towards the Laws and the Crown."

"I only speak the obvious truth," she couldn't help but say.

"If we were to kill every person who spoke their disliking of the Laws, we'd have no people left to rule in Ardania," the King said.

"What of her misdemeanor charges?"

"Misdemeanor charges?" Mageia said.

"Trespassing on Royal Property – the Taefo and assaulting three of my guards," Eron said. "She has committed too many offenses to the Crown to just work in the Runes or rot in our prison."

"Despite my dislike of the girl, I must judge fairly. We must consider her age and what she might be," the King said.

"She is nothing but a mortal," Eron said.

"Perhaps, you'd might take time with her to discover-,"

"No," Eron bellowed.

The King's eyes narrowed into dangerous glares. "Remember your place, Commander."

"What if she's mixed in sorcery? I don't want anything to do with that," Eron said.

"You could figure it out, am I correct?"