The Hunter's Wolf

The Council

The Council

Gerontocracy— it is a form of oligarchical rule in which a state or government is led by a council of elders, who are significantly older than the majority of the adult population.

I never expect to live in a day to see one such apothegm before my very own eyes.

Above, lofty ceilings dominate the skies, and all over me, marble pillars rise in harangue, the deep purple colour that almost seems black at first glance; a symbolism for justice. Caviar benches curve as a semi-circle stack up in rows, domineering against where I stand. I never feel so puny— physically and mentally. About ten elders settle down, men and women alike wearing the same black attire. Their assessing eyes, since the beginning I stepped into the courtroom, have built a tight atmosphere, in which I have grown fidgetiness to.

As if everybody feels the weight drop from the air, the murmurs from the crowds begin to dissipate, and the condemnation begins.

"State your identity."

I hold my head high, straighten my spine, and roll my shoulders back, confidence oozing out through my body language. "Amareth Rose Carson, huntress under the society, age sixteen," I speak in bold, but did not mention the rank.

They give an acknowledgement nod and one of the elderlies gives a citation. "Roughly around thirty hours ago, one of our highly respected brethrens has been eradicated in an unauthorized combat, by you. How do you plead ?" He questions me.

"Not guilty," I say, and the murmurs erupt as the elders glare at the clarity of my voice. I continue, "He attacked me out of nowhere, and I had to protect myself. I believe it is the term that we call as 'self-defense'. Hence, I refuse being charged with murder."

"A witness claims to have seen you armed with a sharp weapon. You should be aware that the carrying or possessing of knives in public is perceived as strictly forbidden and restricted, unless permitted by someone with authority. This shall be a guilty by an offence."

I stand my ground, "Then you should be aware that if the threat involves a deadly force, then I have the right to counteract the threat with any means necessary. He made the first move, and it is only fair if I take mine too."

"Abomination," a man with a brown stubble hisses, "You are abusing such a minor threat against a crime where death is paid."

Another elderly, with a different attire whom I suppose is the supreme judge, says, "It seems that we have tarried into a controversy, instead of coming into an accord to the conviction of the verdict. I say, we make amends for her penalty. Bargain, for one, is an alternate."

I maintain the motionless and utter not a word as he conveys his own idea, "By our law, sentences of a second-degree murder are no light measures. For the worst case, penalizing the criminal found guilty by death sentence might suffice, but the necessities of the pack is a priority. This being said, she has a vital entity for the Alpha, and the future of this pack."

"Are you suggesting that we let her walk on the streets as a free woman ?" An elder tries to make a point.

He pauses in his words, and the crowds and witnesses behind me whispers with disapproval.

"No," he answers. "Crimes must be atoned, and punishment must be as it is," he says with a steadiness that makes me feel dubious about the final statement.

"The underground," he mentions a name that is unfamiliar to my ears, "Where we hold our uttermost outlaws and fugitives."

With that, he strikes the gavel onto the hardwood, "This trial is adjourned." And barks out a command to the men stationed behind me, "Take her away."