Trial by Fairy

An Orc stands trial for killing a human (Incomplete due to writers block) please be honest

Short Story July 18 (Lol it's more like April 24th)


Trial by Fairy


         "And is your client aware of their right against self-incrimination?" Asked the Supreme Wizard, Myus, who calmly stroked his beard while highlighting notable comments from the previous court proceedings' transcript.
         "Yes, your honor." The defendant's attorney, Lyanna, answered. Hoping her wings abstain from fluttering throughout this perpetual tension.
         "Has your client accepted their representation without contest?" The Elf Queen, Ophelia, inquired. She begrudgingly resided to the left of Myus, for tradition is tradition; and wizards are far more popular than monarchs.
         "Yes, your honor." The sweat pouring down Lyanna's forehead narrowly exposing the facade.
         "And do they agree to place their fate in your hands?" Rowan, General of the Armies, asking the final oath, hoping to keep an open mind in spite of the nightmares caused by generations of war between both races.
         "Yes, your honor." Lyanna, somehow keeping her voice from cracking, the predicament she finds herself in is largely the result of hubris.
         The arch-knight's son was murdered six months ago, the shocking news reported countless times as a tragedy until it inevitably was made into a symbol, one creating a further wedge between the Council and Non-council races.
         "Then with the accused fit to stand trial, the prosecution shall present their first argument." Myus stated, while continuing to stroke his beard.
         A sharply dressed bipedal cat the size of a typical human child stood up.
         "Thank you, your honor." The feline responded, a look of righteous fury emanating from their eyes all the way down to their whiskers.
"The prosecution calls on Arch-knight, Jillion." As a soft pur is softly let out, some spectators are quietly escorted away after failing to conceal their laughter.
         The woman towered over adjacent spectators once she stood up, it is a mystery how she managed to blend in with the crowd even while seated. She gracefully walked to the stand, some participants disappointed by the dark robes in place of her beguiling ivory-coated armor.
         "For the sake of your family's past, present, and future, shall you honor the truth?"
         "I shall." She said in a deep, resonant voice.
         "Thank you Arch-knight Jillion, I am positive everyone in this courtroom recognizes your merit after the countless sieges you have held off." The Prosecutor gestured with his left hand behind his back, while his right was extended outward with their palm facing up.
         "On behalf of the court, I would like to thank you for summoning the unfathomable level of strength needed to be here today after suffering such a terrible loss. May I ask you to confirm your relationship with the victim?"
         "He was my son." Answered Jillion, maintaining her composure in addition to her inflection.
         "Thank you, the court asks if you may kindly recount the incident that took place on that fateful day?" Asked the Prosecutor.
         "Yes I may, it began when I asked Jayce, my first-born, if he would carry our family heirloom across the North bridge and into the Isle of Ancients. It would be displayed proudly alongside sacred relics contributed from previous Houses who were rewarded with such an honor." Jillion slowly nudged her head down before reverting to a posture befitting an Arch-knight.
         "My apologies, I am all too familiar with losing friends in battle, but the grief that comes with the loss of your first-born is a fight in and of itself." Jillion admitted.
         "That is quite alright, I must ask you to excuse my bluntness, but regarding your heirloom: what purpose did it fulfill to warrant such an honor?" The Prosecutor said, taking advantage of the pause in speech to adjust his glasses while Jillion answered the question.
         "It protected me from an innumerable count of ill-fated battles; the act of merely holding it is enough to keep my valor intact in spite of overwhelming odds. Although an arrow piercing my heart would have been preferable to losing my son."
         "I am certain any good parent would marvel at the strength you are conveying, please continue."
         "Thank you, my mind drifts off into sorrow with each passing day. While accompanying him up to the beginning of the North Bridge, a messenger arrived on horseback to inform me of an emergency summons by Arch-Knight Jericho."
         "And this was when you last saw your son?" Asked the Prosecutor.
         "Regretfully, yes." Responded Jillion.
         "No further questions." The Prosecutor returned to his seat, the courtroom's eyes shifted their focus to the defense.
         Lyanna's wings began to sparkle and flutter, their natural response to limbless movement. As she stood up, it was apparent there was not much of a height difference between her and the Prosecutor.
         Lyanna approached Jillion, making a concerted effort to imitate a confident demeanor.
         "So..." Lyanna said. Hoping every aspect of the case she studied does not slip from her mind at such a crucial time.
         "Arch-knight Jillion..." Lyanna continued frantically racing her mind to think of an argument that makes sense. It's becoming clear that the nights she spent practicing impromptu debates will play a role in the defendant's freedom today.
         "Why did you ask your son to assist with transporting your family's heirloom? " Lyanna questioned.
         "There was a sharp rise in crime along the King's Trail, I believed it would be safer than going alone." Jillion answered.
         There has to be a hole somewhere in this story, think quickly now, Lyanna.
         "But...an Arch-knight-let alone one with your reputation? Could a week-starved bandit-or even a group for that matter, possibly overpower the woman who held off an entire battalion single handedly?"
         "Objection!" Shouted the Prosecutor, his tail slowly wagging while facing up at the panel of judges.
         "This question has no relevance to the victim."
         Lyanna knew she could not give the Prosecutor an edge now. Her eyes were telling the judges to hear this out, while her thoughts were telling her not to fumble the rebuttal.
         "Your honors, I believe it's essential to understand what brought the victim to the location of their demise..." Lyanna uttered, feeling like there needs to be more weight behind this statement.
         "...as escorting a royal heirloom with this level of prestige is often entrusted solely in the care of those who have proven their loyalty to both their House and Kingdom in battle."
         Myus, Ophelia, and Rowan each looked at each other with equal parts intrigue as well as amusement at the argument.
         "Overruled." stated Myus. Lyanna hardly had any time to grasp that her argument was favored, as did Jillion.
         "It provided a rare opportunity to rejuvenate his appreciation for the sacrifices our ancestors made." The Arch-knight answered, before continuing in spite of her response being sufficient.
         "I had passed off his apathy as nothing more than a rebellious phase inevitably rooting itself for the next few years." Jillion continued, regardless of the Prosecutor's facial expression urging for her silence.
         "Imagine my unchanging disappointment after a decade passed and he dedicated half his life to chasing maidens and exhausting our wine cellar." Jillion finished, slowly narrowing her eyes after realizing how much wider they had gotten by the end of her statement.
         Lyanna took a moment to admire a sharp glare piercing at her from The Prosecutor's catty eyes.
         'Never underestimate a fairy's intuition,' her father's words echoed in her head, so many days dedicated to stubbornly resisting social norms appear to pay off today.
         "Thank you for your time, Arch-knight." Lyanna responded, her inquiries now concluded as Jillion is swiftly motioned by The Prosecutor to leave the stand. The once silent crowd now murmuring in disbelief.
         "Silence!" Myus roared as a thunderous clap echoed through his voice.
         "There are three rules that the courtroom must follow: seat when ordered, rise when ordered, and maintain silence without being ordered." He stated, Ophelia seemed amused by the spectacle whereas Rowan felt it necessary to avoid hysteria in the court. Myus signaled for The Prosecutor to continue, it admittedly takes a moment for the feline's hairs to stand down.
         "Ahem-the Prosecution calls on Rebecca of Lower Octavia."
         Both Lyanna and her client turned to each other, hours spent rehearsing the series of events that took place will soon be put to the test.
         "You will do a great job, remember your practice." Said Lyanna, trying to convince both Rebecca as well as herself.
         The Orc rose from her seat while escorted to the stand by Royal Guards, the shackles are not an ideal look, but perhaps one of the judges may take pity on her appearance.
         "Now, for the sake of your family's past, present, and future, shall you honor the truth?"
         "Ye." Rebecca responded before realizing her first mistake. Lyanna correctly presumed the tension would lead to some minor errors, hoping none so grave as to bring about a guilty verdict.
         "Er-sorry, I shall." Rebecca corrected herself.
         As her blunder manages to draw amusement from the crowd, Myus turns his gaze towards them, an invitation for a daring spectator to chuckle. The glimpse of his imminent wrath snuffs out any caterwauling, he turns his attention back to The Prosecutor.
         "Very well, may you please explain your relationship to the victim?"
         "I didn't know him."
         "Then may you care to explain why the Royal Guards found you covered in the boy's blood?"
         Rebecca made eye contact with Lyanna, hoping for her to shout 'Objection', but it is quickly becoming apparent that this is wishful thinking.
         "I don't remember."
         "You do not recall being on top of a nobleman after beating him to death with his family's heirloom?"
         "Objection!" Lyanna boldly stated, Rebecca is relieved to have a moment to collect her thoughts.
         "Neither of the Royal Guards witnessed the beating, the defendant is innocent until proven guilty in the eyes of the court regardless of the circumstances they were found in." She exclaimed.
         "You're on quite the winning streak." Ophelia responded.
         "That is quite enough." Myus shutting down the Elf Queen's heckling.
         "The Defendant does not have to answer the question under the presumption of innocence." The Wizard said.
         "Very well." The Prosecutor responded. His confidence causing Lyanna to suspect he is hiding a trump card up his short sleeve.
         "Then Rebecca, do you care to explain how you provide for yourself?"
         "Pardon?" She asked in earnest.
         "What do you do for gold?" The Prosecutor asking in near disbelief. Reminiscing on his early days of having to simplify his vocabulary when preparing defense for Non-council races. Memories of standing up for hundreds of orcs, goblins, and warlocks on a monthly basis floods the mind with past events that are as heartwarming as they are headache-inducing.
         "I..." Rebecca hesitated, but knows she cannot keep hoping for 'Objections' to save her every time.
         "The King's Trail has lots of bodies on account of all the wars and crime it hosted" Rebecca took a breath before continuing.
         "And where there's bodies there's gold." She explained, trying to not let the crowd's reaction fuel her already present shame.
         "It ain't proud work, but I sleep on a full stomach." Rebecca added, hoping at least Rowan can sympathize with desperation.
         "You desecrate the souls of fallen warriors all for your own personal gain." The Prosecutor exclaimed in an almost theatrical manner.
         "I ain't a killer!" Rebecca rebutted.
         "Considering how you earn your living, death seems to be a non-issue so long as there is gold at the end of it all."
         "I ain't a killer!"
         "Then why was the victim twitching beneath you as blood poured out from the temple of his skull?" The Prosecutor piled on, Lyanna caught Jillion glaring at Rebecca among the intensity.
         "I don't remember." Rebecca shouted, still feeling cornered.
         "No further questions." The Prosecutor said, impressed with himself.
         Lyanna prepares to run everything through her head once more, the pursuit of her client's innocence culminating into this moment, she approaches the stand.
         "Rebecca, please tell us a little about your upbringing." Lyanna asked, noticing a hint of confusion on her client's facial expression.
         "Your childhood." She elaborated.
         "Well, me father ran out when I was twenty-nine. I ain't sure about most races, but that's young fer an orc. Me mom was killed when our village was attacked. Some drunkard spy told some up-and-coming high-born Knight with something to prove that we were building weapons with materials we mined." Rebecca explained to the court.
         "And were any weapons found." Lyanna asked.
         "Bah-it was a once a year type ceremony, we was buildin' a statue outta rocks to honor our ancestors or somethin'." Rebecca explained
         Before there is time to continue with her statement, the orcs in attendance begin yelling at the humans through the glass wall, and it does not take long for the orcs to tear down the divide between both sides; for all the wrong reasons.
         "That is quite enough!" Myus shouted, quickly recognizing the looming chaos as his warnings go unheard while the conflict proceeds.
"Very well, if you will not listen to reason, then perhaps you will liste-" Myus, rudely interrupted by a wayward metallic regalia making contact with the temple of his skull, is knocked unconscious. The Supreme Wizard no longer a threat, o
         
         "Enough." Shouted Rowan, his voice pacifies the hysteria it is given time to spiral.
         "You are all here in good faith, this faith latches to the presumption that you, and everyone surrounded by you, will embody the dignity and respect that each race yearns for, and is entitled to. If you prefer to behave like savages, then perhaps we may petition our council to restore our colosseums."
         Rowan adjusted his posture in spite of the mounting back pain it caused him, all to salvage the crowd's morale. Personally, I would prefer to remain seated, keep the past isolated within the walls of a horrific museum, and maintain civility in the pursuit of truth." He finished, watching for the crowd's reaction.
         Five extremists escorted away, favoring their creed over Rowan's, the audience now in unison as justice reclaims their focus.
         "What is taking so long?" Myus paused reading his book for a moment to ask.
         "My apologies, the disruption earlier has damaged our paperwork worse than we initially realized, the length of the restoration is relative to the extent of harm caused, your honor." The Prosecutor responded with wand in hand, frantically trying to revert the ashes back to their prior state.
         "You don't find it somewhat strange the defense was spared a similar hindrance?" Opehlia asked Rowan, clearly intent on the crowd overhearing.
         "We were offered a significant number of Orcs to serve as guards, but I recall a notable aristocrat dictating that it would be a disgrace to have such 'wretched creatures' donning the crown's sigil." Rowan answered.
         "I was simply being cathartic, who survives in this world without complaining?" Ophelia asked, sarcastically.
         "Those without the luxury." Rowan spoke, growing weary of the Queen's nagging.
         "Silence from both of you would be a luxury." Myus interrupted, unable to suppress his growing headache any longer as he turned his attention back to the Prosecutor.
         "I could have sought a Priest for this migraine before the spell's cast." Myus stated in a rare form of sarcasm (likely influenced by his injury).
         "Redi ad statum originale tuum" The Prosecutor commanded, taking the opportunity to mend the damaged files along with his lunchbox.
"Finished! Thank you all for your patience." He proudly stated.
"Riveting, if someone may fetch the defense?" Myus asked, gesturing to a guard before drinking the remaining elixir.
         Inside one of the dungeon's interview rooms
         "I hope you can forgive me one day." Lyanna said.
         "There ain't no need, me pop always told me I was a handful, at least durin' the two years I knew him." Rebecca responded.
         "You remember him from that young?"
"O' course, Orcs can remember every second of our lives from the second our mom's spit us out."
Lyanna grinned. "With a trait like that, you would have no problem finding w-" She suddenly went mute, forgetting for a brief moment that Orcs are prohibited from clerical roles in the Kingdom.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"
"One apology is fine, two and I'll start gettin' mad." Rebecca joked. Trying to absolve Lyanna's guilt to the best of her ability.
"Sorr- I mean, thank you."
Rebecca let out a chuckle. "It's ok, ye pass."
"Excuse me?"
"Ye did more than anyone in me dung-infested life ever would have." Rebecca said. Lyanna's eyes began welling up before she even finished her sentence.