Elyon

Trial

I didn't agree to a trial! Pounded in Red's head, but his mouth was too dry to speak.

"Present, Skiftsom." Elyon's voice was weary, as though he'd said the words a thousand times before.

Skiftsom turned toward Red. "By all rights this one is mine. Since his training days he has killed his own in combat, then he turned it on other races. Whole planets have been enslaved, experimented on, or wiped out. This is my work. Look at him." He seized Red's arm, lifting it high. He stuck a claw into the liquid on Red's arm and pulled out a purple drop. "Vortians." He repeated the gesture, a blue drop on his claw. "Slaughtering Rat People." Again, and a small crackle of energy glistened at the tip of his claw. "Meekrob."

Red's chest constricted as he watched Skiftsom go on and on, naming each race he had exterminated or subdued. At one time, this would have been a mark of pride. Now, he could feel all hope slipping away, and a heavy weight gathering on his shoulders.

"Even one of your precious humans." He held a red drop on his claw, and released Red's arm. "His work is mine. You have no claim on him. Withdraw from him!"

Red sank slowly to his knees again, the weight crushing him. He didn't bother looking up to see what weighed him down, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. It was as Skiftsom had said. Elyon would not take him. Why had he even spoken to Red? Was he so cruel as to raise Red's hopes and then dash them? It was the only explanation.

"That is for him to decide. As usual you twist things to suit yourself." Elyon's voice was, again, weary. A note of sadness tinged his tone.

"It is the truth! You yourself cannot stand what he has done, don't deny it! What he has done is against your nature, so you can't call him yours!"

"I don't deny it." Elyon replied. "But he still has a choice."

"Why even bother to choose when you will only reject him?" Skiftsom railed.

"It is you who say I will reject him, repeatedly I might add."

"Because you do!" Skiftsom hissed, growing larger. "You reject what does not fit with you, you cast it out, you send it hurtling into the darkness!"

"What I have made and set in place is the best possible way. It was your own choice, Skiftsom. You chose to try and supplant me because you could not allow for anyone to be greater than you. And on failing you left to bend the minds of all others that I made against me." Elyon's voice was soft. "You know the gates are open to you too, if you would only—"

"Bend the knee?" Skiftsom spat a black gob at Elyon's feet. "Bow the head? Be one of your merry little host blindly singing all hail, all hail, all hail? Never." He gripped Red's shoulder, his claws sinking into the skin. "I will be greater, and I will see all you love BURN. And this one is MINE."

Red's breath caught. All you love? Skiftsom had slipped. Suddenly Red's position was laid out clearly to him. Elyon and Skiftsom were not the judges and he the one whose fate they would decide. Yes, he was on trial, but he was able to cast his lot, it wasn't decided for him.

And this Elyon did want him, even Skiftsom had said as much.

Red lifted his head, even as Skiftsom's claws pierced deep into his shoulder. He met Elyon's steady gaze. "Help me." He croaked. "Help me, please."

"No." Skiftsom growled, jerking Red back. "You can't—"

"Be silent." Elyon commanded, and Skiftsom's mouth shut. "You have said your part. And even so, he has asked for help. Unhand him."