The booming of the tribunal’s drums rivals even that of the cannons firing outside the city walls. That the High Council would go to the trouble of putting on a public trial even while besieged testifies to their displeasure. I don’t think Azer, the judge, has cracked a smile since the war started, but today his face is grim as death.
I, Den Jihro, had an opportunity to rise from my lowly position in the servant class and become one of the most respected members of the city. I destroyed that opportunity—and in the process, doomed my people. Maniare looks at the floor as I’m brought to the witness stand. He hasn’t spoken since the Chamber of Indwelling. If he’s angry at me, he doesn’t let it show. A strange mercy. When I broke into the chamber and interrupted the ceremony, his wrath was the one thing I feared. I don’t care what the Council thinks of me, even if they sentence me to death. But Maniare is more than my brother—he’s my hero. Going to my death with him looking at me as a traitor and a coward is the one fate I can’t bear. Yet, by some cruel twist of fate, his life is the one directly ruined by my crime. The alignment of stars has passed, and the indwelling ceremony cannot be performed for another five hundred years. Maniare will die long before he gets another chance to become the Reborn Warrior. Without him to lead them, our city will fall before the conquerors from the south. The days of heroic stands against dark forces are over. Azer reads the charges against me: breaking into a sacred chamber, interrupting the sacred ceremony. A desperate laugh rises from my throat as he describes the holiness of the rites of indwelling. I hold my tongue, though. I’ll get my chance to speak, however brief it may be. The four priests who were to perform the ceremony come to testify against me. Maniare remains on the bench, clenching and unclenching his fists. At last, it’s time for me give my defense. To explain why I betrayed the very city that gave me an opportunity to rise above my lowly birth. I take a deep breath. “I only desire the best for my city. But the Reborn Warrior cannot and will not save us.” A gasp runs throughout the crowd. “Read the histories!” I cry. “There is not one mention of the Reborn Warrior is any of them! He is a myth, an invention by the Council intended to help them stay in power!” Azer sighs. He doesn’t look angry despite my accusations, only resigned. “The defendant adds slander of the High Council to his list of offenses.” The crowd begins shouting, but Azer quells them with a wave of his hand. “Let him speak. Let him speak! Tell me, Den, why you interrupted the ceremony when you knew that this city, which you claim to love, was entirely dependent on its completion for salvation?” “Centuries ago, our ancestors defeated the dark powers and banished them to the stars!” I gesture upward. “The evil spirits vowed to return, and they almost did, through the lie of the Reborn Warrior!” A furious roar spreads throughout the crowd. Their hatred contrasts starkly with the respect I received as brother to the future Reborn Warrior. Azer signals the guards to calm them. For the first time, I see something other than a grim stoicism in his face. He’s unsettled. Could he possibly believe me? Azer announces my sentence. “Den Jihro, you have doomed your people to die by a foreigner’s blade. Therefore, you shall be the first to do so. Armed with a small knife, you will defend the gate until the city falls." The guards take me away by a back route to avoid the crowd. The gate shudders as cannon fire thuds into it. The warped iron bars holding it in place will soon give way. The guards retreat to more defensible positions as I resolve to meet my fate. Having done all I can for my people, I hold my knife in front of me, ready for the inevitable fall of the gate. A hand lands on my shoulder. I look up to see Maniare’s face as he speaks to me for the first time in days. “I believe you.” I start. “What?” “When I was in that chamber, I felt something else there with me. Other than the priests. Something evil. Old, intelligent, and evil. I tried to tell them to stop the ceremony, but my tongue was frozen.” Maniare lays a bag down at his side. From it he pulls a leather jerkin. Not the best armor, but suitable. Next comes a narrow sword, which he puts in my hand. I glance around. No one has stayed to make sure my punishment is carried out. “So… does this mean I’m not going to die?” Maniare cocks his head. “Oh no, they’re still going to kill us. But we’ll give them a proper fight before they do.” “Us?” He draws his own blade and stands beside me in a classic two-person fighting stance. “You remember what I taught you?” I nod. Countless days of training return to my mind, sore muscles and aching bones made worthwhile by the knowledge that I had my brother’s approval. Now I’m at peace with my crime for the same reason. Maniare turns back to me. “Look, Den. We can recover from anything the conquerors throw at us. But dark powers from another age… You did the right thing. I don’t want you to die… without knowing that.” I nod again, then wrap my arms around Maniare in a sudden embrace. He’s still for a second, then breaks away. Without a word, we assume battle positions. Two brothers, alone, against the most powerful army in the world. The gate shudders once more, then breaks off its hinges and falls. The End *** Sealed Fate originally appeared on Havok in May 2019. I hope that this story will inspire you to focus on your love for others in situations when the world is disintegrating around you. If you think anyone else would find joy or encouragement from this story, please, share it with them.
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"In truth, by leaving, I was seeking only one thing. A journey."
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