The Carnelian Way

22.2

They approached the courtroom from the back, missing the grandeur of the front facade. Still, Rina recalled it from their ascent up the mountain. An immense, temple-like structure that towered above the other buildings on the platform, it had shone almost as white as Mai's palace. Broad steps led up to nine pillars carved into figures. A pair of magisters, one on each end, to represent the Magisterium that held their society together. Moving in, Arkis and Elia, to remember what the thirst for power could lead to if left unchecked. Next, King Hellador of Eurora and King Samium of Denea who had organised the marriage between Mai's parents, one that should have paved the way to peace. Further in, King Raia and Queen Kiera, who had sacrificed all to bring Mai into the world. And at the centre, Mai, the one who had guided them through the storm and created a new world order. The one who would continue to ensure peace, order, and prosperity.

Rina hoped those who walked beneath the sentinels with their sacks of fruit and vegetables would remember the wisdom the pillars offered, and she prayed Sara would seek their forgiveness.

Their group's entrance into the courtroom was far from auspicious. Olav navigated utilitarian passages designed for guards and public servants, circumnavigating any of the building's famed paintings and sculptures as he cut directly to their destination.

A hum of voices simmered to the surface as they neared a door in a sparse section of the corridor. A hammer clanged. "Silence!"

Olav opened the door and ushered them inside, the words of the judge ringing out, sharp and clear.

"A person's body is their own. To take from another, without their permission, is amongst the gravest of crimes. I need not remind you why, Agum Nar, I find you guilty of this crime. Now balance must be restored. To pay for the innocence you stole, your victim may take something from you—without your permission: a treasured item, your name, your eye. Esther Al, I let you choose."

The mumbling resumed, punctuated by shouted heckles and the thumps of objects slapping the ground. Rina felt the hairs on the back of her neck and arms stand straight.

Olav indicated for them to follow him into a booth with four chairs. Rina, Anya, Anat and Martha sat while the men stood behind them, their shadows adding to the gloom of the alcove. Olav pulled back a curtain to reveal the scene below.

The room was vast. A blue star-spangled ceiling held up by white and red marble columns, and under it, rows and rows of benches hewn into the mountain stone, sloping down to a half-moon orchestra where a man and a girl in her late teens stood. Before them, seated on elevated marble seats, eight witnesses sat, their robes ranging from the ochre of acolytes, the blood-red of initiates, through to the dark-maroon of senior magisters.

Above them, on a dais, a senior magister presided, the edges of his robe trimmed in black. He was old and unassuming looking, with receding white-grey hair and light eyes lost in a pale, puffy face. However, his robe and the silver diadem with the sizeable yellow of the Carnelian Crystal on his brow were indisputable signs of his authority.

Despite this, nine armed guards stood to attention, their hands behind their backs.

"Your Honour, please, don't—" Agum shuffled across the floor, toward the podium, the chain at his feet clanging on the stone.

The judge didn't bother to look at him as three guards stepped forward and blocked his passage.

One guard said something to Agum who blanched. He stumbled back, eyes wide as he turned to the girl, hands clasped together in supplication. "Please," he begged. "I'll give you—"

Even from a distance, Rina saw the way the girl's face twisted and heard her as she snarled, "Your eye. I think you'll give me your eye."

"No." He took a step back, shaking his head.