The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 833

Chapter 833: Words

“Isn’t she the?”

“The queen?” jested Igna, “-yeah, it’s her, ignore,” they followed the pathway. Cars waited at the entrance, Eia, trapped in the flock of peasants earnestly tried to gain his attention, in said moment, the path of escape merged into the hues of strangers.

‘He ignored me?’ her raised arm dropped in embarrassment, the few clients noticed and immediately whispered to their friends. A spotlight of ‘under breath,’ comments made the rounds, the center of attention, Eia, had her heart beating in her fingertips, the feet froze, ‘-how dare he,’ she ducked through the double door and rushed for the castle. Returning visitors stared at her, ‘-they’re judging me,’ she gritted, ‘-how dare he put me through- ‘ anger and embarrassment blinded her sight till she accidentally knocked over a demi-human toddler. He fell hard on the marble floor, “-MA-MA,” he cried aloud, the uncaring crowd rushed.

“There,” a lady hurried to her balling child’s side, “-it’s going to be okay,” she held him tightly, the bystanders scattered comments on the behavior.

“At least apologize to the boy,” a mob gathered.

éclair shuffled across the hall in passing, “-minister?” said the accompanying helper, “-is something the matter?” he inquired looking towards the gathered crowd.

“Seems the queen’s in trouble,” exhaled éclair, “-come on,” he made for the cacophonous chants asking for forgiveness. Two scenes played simultaneously, one subjective and the other objective, the former played in Eia’s head, ‘-they’re looking at me as if I have done wrong. They’re blaming me, they hate me,’ her fist clenched, ‘-nobodies dare order me around in my castle. Mother didn’t raise me to be thrown by the likes of them,’ her angered glare rose to the boy, a flip toggled, the cries turned yells. For the latter, in éclair’s point of view, the crowd was calm and collected, most noises rose from the chatter – an occurrence most common after any incident.

.....

“What happened?” interjected éclair.

“Prime minister,” said the mother, “-nothing major my lord. My son was running around and was knocked by her majesty the queen.”

“My apologies,” he said, “-was the boy hurt?”

“Not really,” she smiled and cuddled the boy, “-a little dust on his pants that’s all.”

“Royalty or not, one must apologize for knocking an innocent boy to the ground,” said a cautious bystander, “-it’s only fitting.”

“This isn’t the place to start a conflict,” said éclair, “-the boy’s fine,” he helped the duo stand, “-please, make yourselves comfortable.”

“Thank you, prime minister,” nodded the mother, the crowd dissipated, “-god damn queen of naught,” said a maliciously inflammatory comment, “-she sits and does nothing. You heard the rumors of her affairs; I feel bad for our king – dealing with a spoilt brat.”

“Don’t speak aloud,” hushed others.

“What, am I not allowed to speak my mind?” he shrugged, “-I have rights to my opinion.”

Ire glazed the motion, ‘-crossed the line,’ the eyelids widened, the fingers traced the comment’s originator, “-you...”

“-I’d shut my mouth if I were you,” breathed a secondary whisper, “-reporters are ready to raise hell if her majesty so much as raises her voice. I don’t care if the fault was the boy’s, tis royalty’s duty to take responsibility and accept whatever is dished. Nasty rumors are floating,” the tone deepened, “-I have the recordings of thee bearing all and broadcasting acts of pleasure to Nicola. Trust me, if I wanted, you’d be in jail for adultery,” a sharp jab forced her straight, “-try and trouble my lord; queen or not, you will be eliminated.”

“Prime minister?” hailed the assistant, “-why the whisper?”

“Oh, nothing much,” said a friendly voice, “-was catching up with my friend, isn’t that right, majesty?” a boldly uninterested mien stared at her soul.

“-Y-yes.”

“Good, let’s move on, shall we?”

‘What’s wrong with me,’ her hands trembled, ‘-I felt death on my back,’ she pulled on her collar, ‘-if I cross them, it’s going to be a bloodbath,’ éclair’s figure quietly left, a sense of fear had her follow his movement, ‘-he’s gone,’ she breathed a sigh whilst he cut the corner, until a sudden outburst, éclair’s cold expression locked onto her face and waited for a few seconds. ‘-I-I-If h-he t-tell on m-me,’ she hunched and coughed, ‘-I’ll b-b-be d-dead.’

“My lord éclair, what are you waiting for?” inquired the helper.

“Nothing, nothing, I was checking on someone.”

“Checking or intimidating?”

“What’s the difference?”

15:45 struck on the clock, parking to the royal court filled at a rapid pace. The case to be tried concerned the capture of a certain Rodle Kornwell, investigation led to his conviction. Igna and Bleu pulled onto the scene, the media was in a frenzy wanting to watch the trial as it was the first the new king had to give judgment upon. At 16:00, two sides faced Igna, the kingdom against the defendant, representative of the latter was Aven-Lit, a law firm specialized in fighting the state. Juries were brought as neutral parties – arch-priest Kahe of the Right, sat beside Igna, he wore the religious uniform of Tharis. Without time wasted, a long-winded debate unfolded, witnesses, evidence, the case Bleu built against Rodle and his organization, Sune ‘ol Kia, were accused of human trafficking, prostitution, pornography, and murder.

Aven-Lit built a good rebuttal against Bleu, however, the man’s undefeated streak wouldn’t be broken. At 17:30, the juries and Igna secluded themselves to decide the punishment.

“I say we let the man walk,” added one, “-let’s not kid ourselves, everyone’s been paid to say no.”

“I guess so. Justice is nothing more to who can pay. This system of juries assisting the judge won’t last.”

“Why bring us in, it works for lower-ranked courts, not the Royal standard, here is judgment reserved for the king himself,” they shrugged, “-majesty, far as we’re concerned, we’ve been paid, the decision is in thy hands.”

“The lovely world of capitalism,” he yawned, “-I wasn’t paid, therefore, I’m sentencing the man to prison. He’ll have a great time on the Yanao Isle. The populous need to understand how justice works, proof, righteousness, all is subjective, too bad the defendant dug himself an inescapable hole.” The break ended; the audience assembled in anticipation. All settled quietly, “-before I pass judgment, there’s something which needs to be put forth. The juries were bribed to have Rodle walk, in the authority of my crown and the acceptance of arch-priest Kahe, I hereby decree the Royal Court to void the jury system – for today onward, the cases will be fought fairly. Assigned judges will have full control over how their cases are tried,” he side-glanced the juries, all hid their faces in shame, the defendant tried arguing a mistrial to which he was promptly shut out, “-I, Igna Haggard, King of Hidros, order the following, Rodle Kornwell is to be imprisoned for life on the Yanao Isle. Members of Sune ‘ol Kia, those who’ve taken lives will be tortured and killed. May this serve as an example,” Igna had more to say concerning new policies.

18:00, a satisfied crowd of bystanders wished death on the captive, law-enforcement forced him into an armored truck, interviewers lined the entrance, waiting for Igna, “-Majesty, tell us more about the judicial system, why are the change?”

“Laws are made to be equal, and those who don’t adhere to the limitation will pay consequences. Our way of living differs from the rest of the world, I don’t encourage killing, however, there’s the act of Dualism in place, tis the Hidrosian way of life. Long as the parties consent to a battle, none will be held liable for the other person’s death. What I absolutely despise is the senseless killing of innocents. We’ve lived under the threat of death, everyone’s taught how to fight and survive – in a time of incertitude, we must firm ourselves to the guiding principles of our ancestors. I am hypocritical by not following my words, disrobing the virtues of the olden ways to suit my need. Still, my intent is on following the ways which make us who we are, not old customs made to better the rich and impoverish us, the people. Before pointing fingers at my wealth, understand I started from nothing and built to where I am. I don’t have memories of my childhood, I was found battered and injured outside the Azure Wall,” he paused, “-what I’m saying is this – right and wrong are subjective, instead of fighting in a court of law, I strongly recommend settling difference outside the system of law. The Act of Dualism will promote independence, and by all means, it doesn’t stop at killing, a simple game of coin-flip could be used to settle an argument.”

“Pardon my asking, will the act of Dualism not make a mockery of the judicial system?”

“You’re right, it will make a mockery of the judicial system.”

“Why, does that not defeat the purpose of the law?”

“No, let’s take you, for example, say you sexually harassed a person, the latter makes a formal complaint to the court of law, and you’re forced before a judge, add in the fact that you’re innocent,” he pointed at the reporter’s tattoo, “-the prejudice of skin tattoos linking to immortal acts has long plagued our society. What then, what would you do?”

“I’d profess my innocence.”

“Right, and what if I didn’t know you were a reporter, what then, the consensus would fall on the lawyers to convey said innocence. Now we say the man failed and you’re charged with assault, how would that make you feel?”

“Betrayed?”

“Yes.”

“Where does this lead, majesty?” fired a skeptic listener.

“To my point about independence. Common sense says not to further aggravate the issue and stay clear of the accuser, tis where we fail. If you had been upfront and confronted the lady, professed you were innocent, and had the evidence to back thy action or apologize sincerely, there’s a fine chance she might accept. She would want the one responsible to pay. Wrongfully convicting someone is a sensation of guilt none has to experience – the case becomes a situation of he said she said.”

“Still not getting the point, majesty.”

“There’s what I mean, there is no point. She thinks you’re the culprit and you know you’re innocent. The judge doesn’t know the facts, nor does anyone.”

“The ambiguousness...” paused the skeptic one, “-if nothing is ever resolved, what’s the point of justice, what’s there to this whole ordeal?”

“See, the very idea of giving justice is flawed. The ideal world exists only to better itself; your ideal world is yours, not another’s. Dualism allows for trivial matters to resolved by taking into account your ideal outcome, emotions against emotion, the stronger wins, and the loser will by heart know he was wrong,” he returned to the tattooed reporter, “-to your quandary, there’s but a simple solution, confront the accuser and say with chest you’re innocent. If she doesn’t listen, use your freedom to confront her slanderous act, wrongful persecution will always have prejudice over the assumed act,” he paused, “-my apologies, the interview grew into a lecture about how I see the world. Nothing is fair, not even nature – we must learn cohabitation and mutual understanding, be open-minded to grant the benefit of the doubt,” with a nod, he left the court ground into a luxurious car.

Later said evening, the given interview harbored both support and conflict from other leaders and philosophers. By touching on the idea of independence, the idea of self-accountability laid itself in the minds of the educated.

“What was that about?” inquired Julius over the phone.

“The interview?” he sat underneath a willow tree, “-I don’t know, I had to say something, and the best way to muddle my actions was to add as many open-ended thoughts as I could. Break their focus hides the true intention.”

“You took a risk, who knows what the outcome will be.”

“Doesn’t matter, my word is final – long as the kingdom prospers, there will be no complaint,” the call ended, ‘-it’s funny,’ he chuckled, ‘-a very funny interview.’