The atmosphere inside the compound was in a state of confusion and chaos. Did Hans really kill someone and take on a role as a double agent to the Necromancers?

The news of the upcoming trial of the infamous Master Grey had spread like wildfire, like fire taking to dry grass. Since the breaking of the news, peaceful protests had taken place outside of the trial room and Claudia had been inundated with countless letters or disapproval and personal testimonies of Hans as a person. Although Claudia was unable to comment on the situation at hand, Hans had thanked everyone for the support they offered and that he would go to trial without appealing the initial summon. He, just like any other Tempusmancer, was bound by the same law and he expected to go through the same process to determine the truth.

He had nothing to hide.

No one expected lesser nobility from him and the crowd erupted in applause.

There was only one person within the manor that seemed to be bursting with happiness and his words were heard echoing with enthusiasm in the dining room on the morning of the trial. Breakfast was served earlier than usual to cater for those attending the trial and the buffet was freshly stocked with the breakfast selections. Most had filled their plates with little food, unable to eat, and had already returned to their chairs. Ellen was too focused on pushing the eggs and bacon around her plate, trying to comprehend the flurry of events, and blocked out the wining voice. Whilst everyone else sat in solemn silence, a tribute for Hans, Dvorak was pompously voicing his 'humble' opinion that they would finally establish who the real Hans was and see beyond his façade, and this was karma for incriminating him previously. He also added that he hoped the Seek would need to be employed. There was a collective murmur as everyone showed their disapproval; a murmur which stopped when one of the female Tempusmancers had let the best get of her, rose from her seat and slapped Dvorak across the face.

"You dog," she screeched, pointing her finger into his chest. Each jab was stronger than the last, and pushed the man backwards. "You are an abomination. This is a time of need and yet, here you are finding solace in someone else's pain! Have you no shame!"

Someone on the other side of the room had put their hands together, clapping slowly. One by one, the others in the room followed suit, many laughing at the stubby man who now kept his head down so no one could see his cheek which was red and stinging, and also swollen to almost double its size. The sound of a hundred hands clapping was thunderous and music to Ellen's ears. It was the second time Ellen had witnessed him being humiliated and he deserved it. It also gave 'we are one' a new meaning. She was proud of the cohesion – the way everyone came together – in the face of difficulty and to protect one of their own. She was also thankful that she was no longer regarded as an outcast and had been invited to join members of Hans' clan for meals. She was no longer alone.

"You've hardly touched your meal," the woman next to told Ellen kindly. The woman was regarded as somewhat of the grandmother of the clan. Although it was an unspoken rule to never ask ages, the general consensus agreed that she was at least two hundred years old. This was established off the comparison to others and their recollections of who they had observed in the manor during their time.

"I'm not hungry. I can't eat," she replied dully, stabbing the bacon with her fork before laying it down on the side of her plate.

"Nonsense, nothing to worry about," one of the others spoke. He had a thick accent to his words and twirling his fork so much that he nearly impaled his neighbour onto it.

"Oi! Watch where you're pointing that thing, would you? Lethal, even with a fork! My word, they really have dropped their standards to let you in, didn't they? You'd think they'd make you master forks before they give you the incantation." The table erupted in laughter as the neighbour poked his tongue to the side in his cheek and held up his arms as if to surrender.

"What was I saying? Oh, yes. Hans has been through a few trials before and he came out fine. That, and he's made of some sturdy stuff. His Master was truly something and for Hans to learn under him would have been amazing and he's seen some pretty nasty stuff as his time as Grand Master. You can't forget that. He's like a saint walking between peasants."

The man's neighbour dropped his jaw, gaping at the accented man. "Did you just call me a peasant, peasant? That's offensive! I'll have you know I was part royalty!"

Laughter, yet again.

"Yes, royalty of the Kingdom of the Great Toilet. That really is something to be proud about. I consider peasant to be a welcome step up for you."

Ellen couldn't help it, a grin threatening to break onto her lips. And then it did, and the smile spanning from ear to ear. It was a clever diversion; a diversion that was working.

"Boys, please," the grandmother quipped but there was no denying the amusement in her voice either. "That's not table talk."

- - -

"I'm sorry you can't come with us dear, but orders are orders." The elderly woman pulled Ellen into a hug before releasing her. A personal request from Hans was to bar Ellen from attending the trial and this time it was upheld and supported unanimously. It was agreed that she didn't need the added stress in her life. They were now standing in the doorway of the dining room, Ellen about to go one way and the clan going the other.

"Yes, dear Ellen. You can spend your time wondering about how to be ruler of a Great Toilet empire!" The two men punched each other on the arms before taking Ellen into a headlock and ruffling her hair. It was clear who the jokers were amongst them.

"Don't worry. It will be over quickly. There are things you can do to take your minds off it and we will visit you as soon as we can. I believe Guardian Rolland won't be attending the trial either. You may be able to give him company and gain experience."

Ellen nodded her head, although it was just a nod to keep them happy. The less she had to do with Rolland, the better she deemed it to be. She still hadn't fully recovered from his accusation that she had killed someone.

"That man is just weird. Don't ever be married to your specialisation," the man with the accent cautioned, "because you will end up just like him. If you ever fall in love with your job, just take a good, hard look at him."

More laughter, and the swing of an arm as the grandmother clapped him around the head. The laughter died off, the man rubbing the side of his head.

"Take care," she said to Ellen sternly. And then they left down the corridor, leaving Ellen alone. Oh how she wished was able to be there. But she respected Hans' wish and dispersed the idea of sneaking into the trial room.

She wandered down the corridors at a leisurely pace, letting the carpet steer her with no real direction. Opting to immerse herself in a book, Ellen changed her heading for the library. The library had to be one of her favourite places in the manor; the high ceilings that were supported by rich, mahogany wood, the carpet that was softer and fuller than that throughout the others rooms; the lines upon lines of book that was almost roof high. She found it the most comforting place at the time of need with its smell of aged books and large, leather armchairs placed in private areas for privacy. Ellen strolled through the door, and let the atmosphere of the room take over her senses.

Already knowing the relative location of every genre, she ambled to the left where the fictional novels were separate from non-fiction. She was hoping that she would have the library to herself with everyone attending the trial but this was not true and she was not alone. The man that she wanted to see the least of all in the manor was standing on one of the bookcase ladders, running his fingers along the spines of the books. She wanted to trace her steps backwards and disappear but he had already noticed her.

"Isn't it a shame," Rolland stammered, absentmindedly, "that the books can't tell us everything that we need to know, everything that we need to look out for in life. It would make things so much simpler in life."

Ellen folded her arms and bit her lips. She wasn't quite sure where he was not going with this nor was she very interested in what he had to say. He had a way of speaking in riddles and if he wasn't speaking in riddles, he was the bringer of bad news.

"Why aren't you at the trial?"

Rolland looked at her. "I've been around Hans long enough to know that he will come out of it just fine." He eyeballed her for a minute and then went back to scanning through the books.

"But you worked with him closely. Why aren't you there to at least support him?"

His hand paused but his eyes remained trained on the titles. "Ellen, I don't need to be everywhere where he is. And I've seen my fair share of him over the years. He's not half as innocent as you think, you know. Oh, definitely not."

"If he isn't so innocent, then why are so many of our kind protesting against the trial and supporting him?"

He finally found the book he was searching for and pulled it out of its place. He looked over at her, a lulling look on his face and a small yet sinister smile. "Everyone needs something to believe in. And in case you haven't noticed, he's a bit of a rockstar amongst us."

He leaped off the ladder; the carpet muffling what should have been a loud thump. He then took small steps – baby – steps towards Ellen, the book held tightly to his chest so she couldn't read the title.

"I have an interesting case I need to attend to, one that you might be interested in. Whilst the trial is happening, at least it would give you something to do."

"What is it about?" she asked curiously. She was hesitant with the proposition, but if it meant it would ease the throbbing entity that was her mind, she would take it. Even if it did mean that she would be stuck with Rolland for a while longer.

"One of our kind has been caught meddling with darkness in public. Something like this only comes up every decade or so. You wouldn't want to miss this. You'd be stupid to miss this."

Ellen mulled it over, weighing up the pros and cons. She couldn't stand the man and his arrogant demeanour but everyone kept advising her to get as much experience and exposure as she could. And if Hans trusted him, doesn't that mean that she can too? Almost as if reading her mind, Rolland was the first to break the silence.

"I'll see you in the entrance hall in twenty minutes."