VoC: B1 — 2. Judgment of the Crown (Patreon)

Veil Of Chaos Index

Previous Chapter

In-line Edits

PoV: 

1. Damon (Our New 24-Year-Old MC!)

---------------------

All attention immediately pinned Damon to the podium, scoffs and laughter coming from the high nobility, judging gazes leering down at him from high overhead.

“He’s a dark elf.”

“He has no right to the citizenship of our legal system!”

Damon’s fingers curled, feeling Aria’s anxiety rising, yet Stephen’s frown turned into a half-smile. And his voice grew louder to quiet the snickering nobles.

“My Lord… Damon was born a prince and, despite any current legal proceedings, that hasn’t been stripped from him…yet. It is for that very reason he is before the High Court and not a lower chamber, is it not?”

Chills swept through the hall as the laughter cut, like a bucket holding ice-cold water that fell over every head present. His grandfather, however, showed an intrigued smile.

“A bold invocation of law, Damon… High Bishop, what is your opinion?”

Damon felt a quiver run down his spine. It was subtle, but something in that last exchange had drastically changed the direction of things—his grandfather had called him by name, not race.

“It…is sound logic and law, Your Majesty,” confirmed a stern-faced elder of the Holy Emperor, standing near the throne. “He is of Princess Catelyn’s blood, and neither your daughter nor he has been, as of yet, stripped of their titles…or citizenship.”

“Perposterous!” shouted a woman.

“Unacceptable!” Marquess Aldric shouted, jumping to his feet to lean over the banister above. “A dark elf—the Spider’s people—our citizen?! The legal protections—the implications!”

Damon’s teeth snapped together as the brand on his wrist ignited—Aldric’s fear fueling his torment.

If they learn the name hurts me… I’m screwed.

“Hang in there!”

Don’t worry about me.

Even the High Bishop showed unease. “Yes, but, My King, as Marquess Aldric points out, the Act itself graces the defendant with a restoration of citizen rights…

“This would cement him—a dark elf—as a citizen, with full benefits therein. The law states the individual must be fifteen when joining the Northern War against the armies of Hell, and there is the issue of a statute that permits the public execution of dark—”

His grandfather held up a hand, silencing them all.

“The law is the law,” he stated with a grim tone, his stone-like gaze sweeping over the nobility. “Before the throne of the Holy Emperor, this chamber is dedicated to it… Repeat what you said, Prince Damon.”

“You got this!” Aria whispered, almost breathless, like she was biting her nails—a habit of hers. “Uh-oh, I don’t like the look that Aldric person is giving you. Yeah, he’s going to send assassins. He’s totally the assassin type.”

We cross that bridge when we get there.

Straightening and looking up at the king, Damon repeated his claim, adding, “…Your Majesty, I am willing to enter into a Divine Oath, under the Holy Emperor’s throne.”

Several mouths fell slack, glances sent to one another as he got an approving nod from Stephen. It was the look that said, ‘You’ve made this a lot easier.’ His little sister, on the other hand, was practically beating him over the head.

“You what?! No. No way! That is way too far, Damon. We don’t even know all the rules and logic of this world yet!”

I don’t need to. You always need to take a leap of faith in the real world to get anything done, Sis. This isn’t school… This is life and death.

His grandfather showed a small, anticipatory smile as Stephen jumped back in.

“Indeed, but no age limit is specified in the Clemency Act, High Bishop. Is there any law barring dark elves from seeking pardon through a Holy Pledge?”

“No…” the elder mumbled, causing a stir amongst the throng. “But surely he can serve if he is a reincarnate—his mind is not that of a ten-year-old?”

“The law states a legal age of fifteen. We cannot make exceptions. Physically, in this world, he is ten. It is settled.”

The king’s words swept the chamber like an arctic wind, sharp enough to still every voice.

“As for the archaic law that you speak of, allowing the execution of dark elves, such wording is specific to governing actions of public executions, which is a right further clarified in law given to the king himself,” Stephen countered, causing even more angry mutters to fill the stands.

“I…guess that works?” Aria mumbled. “We’re on our way… Grandpa?!”

King Enrir’s smile fell. “There, Marquess, I must interject. While no, there is no law barring a dark elf from seeking clemency, including the thirty Imperium steel pieces in funds, you are incorrect for the first time.”

Damon’s gaze darted to the man who treated him like a son growing up, as his left hand tightened into a fist.

Many nobles nodded as their grandfather quoted a few legal codes before saying, “…These are clear. The law regarding the acceptable murder of dark elves is held as the king’s and civil responsibility. It was an ancient addition, which is not well known to even the nobility and lawyers of our nation. The Clemency Act pardons all royal and high noble transgressions, not civil.

“That being said, Damon…do you, under the light of the Holy Emperor, take an oath to stand for the light and join His army against the legions of Hell when you come of age?”

Aria internally growled. “Okay, nope. That’s BS. I object! So, just anyone off the street could just kill my brother?! What kind of law is that?”

No, did you hear him? Damon interjected, straightening and looking his emotionless grandfather in the eyes. He’s actually trying to help us while remaining totally transparent. He’s saying no one knows about this law except for people steeped in law, like the king or high clergy. Not even the high nobles can act against us. Only ‘civil’ action. This oath protects me from leadership and gives me the rights under clemency. We won.

“Wait, really? I don’t know… It sounded like total bullshit to me. I don’t want you to make any weird oaths!”

Shhhh.

“No, you shhhh, you…shusher! I’m the only smart one!”

Hiding the smile he wanted to show, Damon felt the air between him and his grandfather clear slightly. He had to follow the law. It was the core of his foundation. Yet, on some level, he still saw him as his grandson, which gave him hope for their mother.

“I proposed it. I accept.”

A burning heat encircled his wrists, forming a jagged halo representing the mark of one given clemency by oath of the Holy Emperor.

“Holy crap, Bro,” Aria hissed. “I can feel that through our bond. That’s some serious divine magic… I still don’t know about this. Typically, this sort of thing doesn’t turn out well in the end… In books anyway.”

Damon chuckled silently, lips twitching. She was panicking again—loud, stubborn, and smarter than he wanted to admit.

The nobles in the gallery were murmuring, some looking satisfied, others appearing frustrated. A few seemed calculating, as if already planning how to use his new status.

Cheer up, Aria. We won the first battle… Onto the next.

Damon flexed his fingers, testing the strange, spiritual weight of the magical binding as the oath flashed on-screen:

[Divine Contract: Accepted]

[Royal and noble transgressions have been stricken from divine record, paid by the price of service and life. Citizen rights restored under divine decree.]

[Terms: Service in the Royal Army at age 15.]

[Current Age: 10.]

[Duration: Until the Hell Portal is closed.]

[Restriction: No Feat may change the oath-taker’s race or physical appearance to look like any other race.]

5 years, huh? We’ve got time, I guess.

So… Sophia, Aria? Don’t hold out on me.

“Umm, yeah,” his little sister cleared her throat, “she sort of got turned into a monster.”

His heart seized.

Say that again?

“A monster! But it’s fine—probably.”

Probably, Aria? he pressed.

“Just…give me a minute to collect myself! Okay? I’m kind of freaking out about you…”

Aria…

He paused, recognizing the panic in her tone. It wasn’t fake. That was even more concerning, but there was a certain way to handle his little sister when she got evasive like this…and it required a bit of patience. As frustrating as that was.

Five minutes.

“Five minutes… Yeah. No, but Soph is strong.”

She is…but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t need help.

“Mhm…”

He shoved down his rising panic, looking up at his uncle.

If they were going to get through this, he needed to keep a level head, even if his heart was yearning to see her face. Aria would tell him. It just took her a little longer to face things she tried to avoid. And, right now, there wasn’t much he could do.

He needed to free himself of this political nightmare before anything else.

Just hold on, Soph. I’m coming…

I’m coming.

-----------------

[ Next POV: Sophia ]

[ Theme: What is happening with Damon’s GF? ]

-----------------

Next Chapter