Trash: Chapter 142 Judges, Jurors, and Executioners (Patreon)

Chapter 142

Judges, Jurors, and Executioners

“Now we will conduct the trial of healers,” Chief Lightken’s voice boomed out. “Before you, we have those who have already been revealed to have been exposed to the corrupting seeds of the Death Eaters. These are seeds that are not planted in mere seconds as occurred here earlier.”

There was a pause as Aiden Lightken let that comment settle into the minds of those who were gathered before continuing. “That’s right, just because you might have been exposed here today, your time was both negligible and unwilling, allowing no time for a corruption seed to take root within your soul.”

“Relieved murmurs,” at this comment the audience who had been frightened before, now seemed to visibly relax and exhale in unison. Watching the spectacle I almost hoped it was true, though a few head shakes of the ROW members that nearby seemed to speak of different concerns and opinions about this matter. Still, the words did exactly what the Chief wanted, as it visibly caused the crowd that could easily revolt to calm down. I suspected that tests and screens would be done discreetly or be made available to any citizens who might otherwise fear they were exposed. But for now, the comments played their part and for once, I was not angered by the blatant use of some type of social Skill being applied to his words to help quell the mass hysteria that is still moments away being reduced to a frenzy.

“Yes, you are safe, thanks to the swift actions of your local guards, your first responders, and of course your local healer who took actions into their own hands,” at the last part, the Chief pointed directly towards me, as I stood at the top of the spire. My placement was obvious for two reasons, first all the other healers got out of my way as I made my way back up to the top of this spire, and second unlike the arena where there multiple veils and healer uniforms were available for me to break through, there did not seem to be any extra available here. I’m assuming most of this is due to the fact that there are well over a hundred healers present and cloaked, meaning that these veils and uniforms are at a premium. While my face isn’t entirely exposed, mine is clearly the only one open enough to reveal the lower portion of my face.

“Loud Cheers,” screams and chants were released by an audience that was both relieved to have been pardoned from suffering from the same criminal offense that they had gathered to witness, and for the quick work of all the local protectors.

“Finally, I would like to thank the quick actions and responses made by the Royal Order of Watchers, whose sole purpose is to protect the great healers that serve as the final hope in our war against the encroaching darkness. With each generation of new healers, we grow one step closer towards ending this war for good.”

At this last comment, I saw Madame Bloom’s body tense up ever so slightly, a sign that she did not believe the words being spoken, but she quickly regained her composure and began moving. With the veil and cloak covering her features, I might have missed the uncharacteristic stillness and assumed I just missed something, but after spending so long with her, that sudden tension was unmistakable, and spoke volumes about how she truly felt about the overall situation, something I would have to ask her about personally. Though I gathered based on our current track record of constantly being forced to abandon habitable lands that we aren’t doing as well as being portrayed.

“More cheers!”

It is all scripted and given that almost no one is actively trying to disrupt the flow and cadence of the Chief, his Skill is apparently able to be used easily. Still, with each use, I feel a minor spike of annoyance slice against my consciousness. Ultimately, I know that my seal is protecting me from being fully influenced, though I can’t help but feel a lulling effect coming from the cadence of his speech and his near constant use of his mental power of persuasion that threatens to overwhelm my psyche.

“We began with the revelation of evidence, thanks to your locally awakened Lightken revealing those who were corrupted by Death Eaters!” The Chief began, pointing towards a fully robed and covered person in red robes, who I swear has the same posture and overall build as Mousey. At least Mousey, is the image that comes to my mind when the Chief mentioned a local Lightken. I also remember that Mousey was the same one who performed this same feat against Johny, who is the first of the condemned.

Taking in the moment, this view from the top gave me a direct glimpse into the state and condition of my countrymen. I think that is why this whole spire was designed this way, with us finally overlooking the stage of the condemned. Those that had been found to positively possess glowing and exposed seeds of corruption.

On the stage, I could see Johny, the first and closest of the condemned. He was forced to kneel on a block of metal that had been moved into place. His legs bound by ropes thanks to special groove carved out in the metal plate. Then a metal post rose up from plate upwards and formed an almost hangman’s noose type effect, but rather the hands of the condemned were raised up, forcing the condemned to take on an exaggerated prayer like pose; their body forced to kneel, while their hands raised up towards the heavens in a form of prayer.

Of course, Johny wasn’t alone, for next to him was Sal, and several of his helpers whose faces were familiar. They were cleaners, riggers, and crew members that helped make the matches at the Arena go off without a hitch. The people who kept their heads down and avoided drawing attention to themselves as much as possible. Seeing them all now, I felt a wave of revulsion and disgust at their condition. Seeing them, it was clear that they all knew death was close. A fact that was highlighted by the masked ROW members who took up positions behind each of the condemned, long weapons gleaming to decapitate or fully kill the others.

Then down below the stage was a burning pit that was still being adjusted. In the pit, I saw the skeletal remains of all the Death Eaters being taken and placed on piles of dry hay and oil. It was clear that this was the equivalent of a witch hunt, though hunt isn’t quite the word, but a witch trial of old. However, unlike the times of my world, there did seem to be some level of evidence that had to be presented for conviction here. In my world, it was said that these trials were made to take lands from widows or worse, but here there was a supernatural component. An undeniable link to the unknown that is both frightening and seemingly warrants maximum brutality. Inwardly I cringe at the idea of these methods being available to the members of the inquisition during those infamous witch trials of my world.

“These men have all been condemned to death,” Chief Lightken begins. “Within each of those before you beats the heart of corruption that will convert these people into the very creature who corrupted them, unless we take action today!”

“Boos!” The crowd responds, showing their disdain for those who have been condemned before them.

“But the gods are benevolent. They have given us fire so that we can all purge the corruption from their bodies and prevent their spread,” the Chief states and with that torch is dropped into the pile of straw below that contains the remains of the slain Death Eaters, and any other signs of battle from earlier.

“Cheer!” The crowd erupts at the sight of the flames that tear through the last vestiges of smoke and bones, permanently removing the Death Eaters from this world.

“They have also given us healers who, were originally given the ability to remove and prevent the spread of corruption. Now each healer before you will require two things in order to save those who have been condemned by their own actions before you. They will need conviction that those before you are innocent, and the ability to enact their conviction.” The Chief continued, his words offering plausible deniability to the healers who are gathered. His implication is obvious, some of these healers might not choose to heal these people as they are deemed to be beyond redemption due to their working with Death Eaters.

“With that out of the way, we ask that the healers who have gathered here, offer the condemned a final chance at salvation,” Chief Lightken called out and gestured for the closest healer to leave the spiral platform and walk across the stage. Moving at what seemed like a speedwalking pace, the first few healers all but sprinted across the stage. Each healer moved along the stage, heads down as they seemed to try to find the nearest exit first. Seeing their reaction, I wondered if it was mostly due to lack of ability, versus the blatant judging of my fellow countrymen as being not worth saving.

Breaking off, those healers that made their way across the stage, walking past every member of the condemned were later directed back towards the Ancestral Cathedral, stopping just before entering the stone archways leading back towards the seven sacred statues inside. Seeing the move, I wondered if the Ancestral Cathedral was likewise protected.

Realizing how quickly all the healers made their way across the stage, I could only recount similar events from my past life. With the cloaks, and facial coverings, I couldn’t help but draw an odd comparison to a graduation ceremony done at speed without diplomas or photo opportunities being provided. Instead, it seemed as if everyone associated with this event wanted nothing to do with why they were asked to be here. The only real solace that could be drawn from such an event was that we were all covered, meaning no one could truly judge us for not stopping to help a beloved family member. That by us all hiding our identities and moving as one, we made it seemingly impossible to be angry at any one healer. It reminded me of how zebras hide by moving in a herd. The striped patterns make it hard for any predator watching the herd move as one to focus on any target and thereby allow for the protection of the herd. Unfortunately, this only works so long as everyone looks the same. Peering through my pierced veil, I realized I would be the lone exception to this blending herd-like deception.

Moving with the others, I soon lost track of where we were in the number of healers that had crossed the stage and effectively voted for the death of my countrymen. I don’t know why that bothered me so much, the idea that others would judge my fellow countrymen as lesser and therefor not worth saving, but it did. I could almost feel an entitled smugness rolling off the others, as they stood tall and made their way across the stage. Maybe it was just the function of Acting or similar Skills that caused other healers around me to stand tall and be confident, but it still irked me. For some indescribable reason, I found that some of the healers that had been called had an apparent smugness to them. Maybe it was the way they tilted their noses up, a gesture I caught thanks to my Eagle Eyed Skill that allows me to pick up on these types of details. While these postures and movements might be too subtle for members of the crowd to pick up on, with my being almost on top of my fellow healers, I can see these subtle gestures easily.

I watched, as every other healer left the spire and made their way onto the stage. Finally, it was our turn, the two other Bloom Aunties made their way to the stage and offered condolences to the condemned in the form of offering quick prayers to each. Placing a hand upon the head of each of the condemned but offering little more than simple gestures of comfort. Even healing was avoided, a fact that was highlighted by the fact that any healing provided would only worsen their condition. It reminded me of the times when I had to deal with patients dealing with hyponatremia or severe psychogenic polydipsia, conditions where people wanted water desperately, but it would only worsen their conditions. This was a similar fate, but worse, for rather than offering water, we could offer healing arts, which would only increase their level of torment.

For a moment, I wondered if I should go before Madame Bloom, my master and the one with more seniority over me. But a hand gesture from her waved me back, forcing me to take up the rear. I watched as even Madame Bloom could only provide a quick prayer to the condemned. Then finally taking one step onto the stage, it was my turn.

At that moment, I realized something, that I was the last vestige of hope that the seven condemned countrymen had at this moment. That if I just walked by, Sal, Johny, and the others would all be condemned to death. Killed by the ROW guardsmen that were behind them, and their bodies thrown into the burning pyre before the stage. This was it, the ultimate form of divinity that one person could experience, the chance to save the lives of seven other humans. Realizing my importance in this role, I took full advantage. Turning to face the nearest ROW guardsman, I said four words that would forever change the course of the seven condemned before me.

“Give me your dagger,” I demanded and they did.