by Matt King
Balenor and Soraste stood to the left of Anemolie. Balenor had a worried expression. Never one for confrontation, the anticipation of the proceedings sent his eyes skittering about, almost as though he were looking for a means of escape. Paralos noted that he made no eye contact with Amara. Whether that was a good sign or not, he didn’t know. Fear was drawn to power, and with two powerful gods vying for his loyalty, there was no telling how Balenor would decide. Soraste, at least, he could predict. The silent god spoke volumes with her actions. Were it not for Amara’s meetings, Soraste would never interact with another god. She kept to herself, tinkering with her worlds, treating them like a child would her favorite toy. She neither craved power nor shied away from it, even though she was the weakest of the gods next to Meryn. She liked Meryn, he knew. Meryn was one of the few who shared Soraste’s lack of lust for Amara’s throne.
Finally, his gaze turned to Cerenus and Tamaril. Like Balenor, Tamaril was uncomfortable in the face of war. Unlike Balenor, though, he was a devout believer in the promise of Pyra. Amara’s claws kept him close with assurances that she, alone, spoke for the phantom god. Tamaril was smart. Paralos planned on appealing to the god’s intelligence, hoping that it might overpower his juvenile dreams of fantasy and myth.
And then there was Cerenus. Cerenus the confident. Cerenus the strong. Cerenus the unpredictable. He wondered if the god had taught Meryn in the ways of lies and deceit. He could be counted on for one thing only—doing what was best for him. Paralos didn’t like the look on his face. He was normally confident, but his eyes had a look of strength to them that he hadn’t noticed before. It was worrisome. Had Amara gotten to him already, perhaps by giving him something in return for his loyalty? It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Greetings, old man,” Cerenus said. “You’re looking bright. You must be as excited for the dramatic conclusion to this saga as I am.”
Paralos forced the best smile he could. “Always a pleasure to see you, Cerenus.”
“My goodness. That certainly looked like it was painful for you.”
You have no idea.
“I call this trial to order!” Galan bellowed.
As much as Amara had couched the proceedings as a judgement of Meryn, Paralos saw it for what it was: a call to choose sides. There was no doubt in his mind that the other gods would soon be drawn into the conflict. The only question was, to which side? Soraste, he thought, was solidly opposed to Amara. Galan and Anemolie were a lost cause. Between them, he thought either Balenor or Tamaril could be talked into joining his side, but not both. Balenor’s fear of Amara was great, and Paralos wondered if he had the strength to oppose her. No, Tamaril should be my target instead. Tamaril had a stronger army and a mind fit to control them. That put the count at four gods for Amara and three for him. Cerenus was a must-win. Without his support, the effort was as good as dead. Cerenus looked back at him as though he knew it already, and relished the attention. The more foolish side of Paralos wished Cerenus would side with Amara simply so he could make the god taste fear for once. He swallowed the thought. There would be time for that, one day.
Or so he hoped.
“Brothers and sisters of the light,” Amara said. “Before we begin, let us offer our prayers to Pyra.”
Galan drifted forward to lead the group in prayer. Paralos suffered through the god’s call for Pyra’s guidance in the troubling times ahead. He scanned the rest of the Circle to see who participated. All seemed deep in thought, whether in reverence or for show, all except for Cerenus, of course, who waited out the prayer by manipulating a ring of loose stones to dance around his feet.
When he was done with the blessing, Galan floated back into place at Amara’s side. As always, the shade of blue his light gave off looked as transparent as a paper costume on a sun. He was no more welcoming than a plague.
“We have grim business to attend,” Amara said. Breaking tradition, she moved away from her place as the head of the Circle and ventured into the center to address her flock. “One of our own has broken our sacred laws.”
“This charge is unproven,” Paralos said, interrupting.
The look Amara gave him could have pierced through the fabric of time. “You will have your chance to defend your absent partner, as well as prove that you were not a willing accomplice, Paralos. For now, the floor is mine.”
“Of course. Forgive me.” He let her continue, satisfied that he had planted an early seed of doubt.
She continued, seemingly unshaken. “My friends… Meryn, as you know, has stood at my side since the day of her awakening. Lost and afraid of her powers—as we all were—I took her in to guide her through the first few difficult years. I gave her her first worlds, showed her how to make life where none existed before, taught her how to use this life force to make herself stronger. In return, she pledged herself to me, and to Pyra. She supported me during the rebellion of Ule. She helped incorporate his worlds after the conflict was over. She was my trusted advisor. She was my confidant. She was my friend.”
Tamaril and Balenor actually looked troubled as Amara spoke of her past with Meryn with a voice bordering on trembling. Paralos felt like blasting them into the void. How could two beings be so powerful, yet so naive?
“As you can imagine, her decision to side with Paralos’s aggression came as a shock. Perhaps it shouldn’t have. I know, now, that I should have seen the warning signs of betrayal. Meryn was always quiet, always secretive.” She canted slightly toward Soraste as she spoke. “Our Circle was formed on the basis of trust and faith. We were meant to lead this universe through our actions, and yet it is the actions of one of our own that now threaten to tear our universe apart.
“Not content with an attempt to divide this great Circle, Meryn has performed an act so egregious that it threatens to dissolve the system of laws that have held us together for eons. We have but one rule whose punishment requires the instant forfeit of life—no god shall interfere in the fight between champions. During the opening battle of this unfortunate and unnecessary war, my champion, Michael, faced Meryn’s champions—both of them—and delivered a blow that would have assuredly defeated them both.”
“You can’t know that,” Paralos said. “You can’t know any of this!”
“Let the Lady finish,” replied Cerenus. “I am enjoying these tales of war and deceit.”
Paralos did his best to stare the god down, but Cerenus simply smiled in return.
Amara ignored the exchange, choosing instead to engage each of the gods in turn. “War is an ugly practice. As the children of Pyra—born to lead the human race in all its forms—we cannot let ourselves drift into chaos. Order is our only defense against chaos, and what order can there be without laws? Meryn has made a mockery of our laws. She has openly defied our decree, brazenly invited chaos to reign, and dared our Circle to try to stop her. In effect she has called for the Circle to break our eternal peace and engage in war with one another. I ask you to consider the consequences of such a war. Consider what you have, and what you have to lose. Consider the end of our way of life. Then ask yourself, is Meryn worth it? Is one traitor’s defiance of our laws worth the destruction of our life, eternal?”
She paused to let her words sink in. Paralos almost admired her. In the span of only a few sentences, she’d managed to appeal to the power-hungry while simultaneously threatening the weak. As he looked around the Circle, he saw the effects taking hold.
“Our situation need not go down this path. There is another way. Punish Meryn for her crimes, as our laws have decreed. I say this to you not as Meryn’s adversary, but as your leader. Some of you may question my motives. This is understandable. As a show of my faith, I am willing to forgo the bounty of Meryn’s death. As the Circle suffers from her chaos and treachery, so should the Circle reap the rewards for having the courage to end it. If Meryn is found to be guilty of this crime, her energy shall be dispersed among all of you, but none to myself or Galan.”
Cerenus was quick to beam
at the news, as were others. Paralos felt his grip on the Circle slipping away before he even had a chance to plead his case.
“Now, Paralos, I yield the floor.”
The Circle turned to him. He felt the pressure of their expectation, whether it was to save Meryn or damn her.
“Gods of the Circle,” he began. He threaded the words carefully through his mental walls so as not to show the treasures he guarded. “This trial is a farce. There is only one person who was present at the time of these alleged crimes, and that person is me. Not Amara. Not Galan. Consider this again. No one accusing Meryn of this crime actually witnessed a crime taking place.”
He gave them time to reflect on the gravity of his words. Instead of shock, the rest of the Circle stared back at him with blank gazes.
“How do you know,” he continued quickly, “that Meryn’s champions weren’t able to survive the blast on their own? What evidence does she have to say they weren’t?”
“They’re Meryn’s champions, for one,” Cerenus said. “No offense meant to present company, of course, but she makes Soraste look like Amara’s twin. Meryn couldn’t possibly give a champion so much energy as to survive something Amara created.”
Paralos wasn’t expecting an answer. “You…you don’t know that.”
“He has a point,” Tamaril said. “How could Meryn create a champion that strong?”
“Maybe she borrowed some energy from Paralos,” replied Cerenus.
“That is against the rules,” Anemolie said. “Although, we have seen what Meryn thinks of our rules.”
“She hasn’t taken my energy, nor has she broken any rule,” Paralos replied sharply.
“Then why isn’t she here?” Tamaril asked.
Paralos paused too long. “She is afraid.”
“How do you know? Have you talked to her?”
Amara’s smile was infuriating. He tried not to notice. “I am guessing, of course, much how our Lady is guessing as to the supposed crimes Meryn committed.”
Tamaril pressed on. “So you’ve had no contact with her since the incident?”
“No.”
“But you were there when it happened?”
“Yes, as I said…”
“Then perhaps you can explain what happened?”
Again, his lack of quick rebuttal did not go unnoticed by the group, who started to pass looks between them. Paralos let slip a burst of red light. “The more powerful of the two champions protected the other.”
“How?” Tamaril asked.
“Through a shield of some sort.”
“Of some sort?”
“It was a wall of energy.”
“So this champion created a shield strong enough to protect them both from the explosion? That would require a considerable amount of energy.”
“I can only tell you what I saw.”
“Then we are back to the question of strength, and how this champion acquired so much from such a weak god,” Anemolie said.
“These questions are absurd.”
“No more absurd than your story,” she said with lights in her eyes.
“Do I have the floor or not?!” he shouted at Amara.
The Circle fell silent as their stares turned slowly to the Lady. She drank in the attention before answering in a calm voice. “Paralos is allowed to tell his version of the events,” she said. “Let him speak.”
She motioned with her hand for him to continue.
When their eyes returned to him, he could sense that he was losing them. Even Soraste looked at him with an air of annoyance.
“You doubt my story,” he said. “Fine. Doubt it all you like. But consider this: Meryn’s life is at stake here. There is no penalty as great as the one she’s being asked to pay. Should you see fit to condemn her to this fate, ask yourself a question: How soon until the Lady accuses you? How soon until you are brought before this Circle? And when this happens—and it will—ask yourself if you would accept a punishment handed down by a group of your peers with no more evidence than the word of a god who never saw the crime in the first place. Think of it. Think of what this means. You are being asked to end the life of an immortal. One of your own! On the basis of what? A guess? A probability? Is that all it should take?
“No,” he answered before someone else could. “A god of the Circle deserves better.”
He drifted back into place, satisfied that he had accomplished what he’d set out to do, even if it hadn’t been delivered as planned.
No one spoke as they waited for Amara to ask them the question that would ultimately decide Meryn’s fate. As well as their own. He assumed the rest of the gods knew what their decision meant, in all cases. He saw the weight of the decision in their light. Some, like Anemolie, were calm and confident in their answers. Others, like Balenor, blinked like a dying star as they made their choice.
Amara gave them little time to deliberate. “Children of Pyra, what say you?”
“May we not have more time?” Balenor asked.
“You have all the evidence you need to decide, Balenor.”
“Yes, of course, but the decision is so great, my Lady.”
“The decision will not become easier by delaying the inevitable.”
Balenor shrank like a wilting flower in the face of her stern rebuke. “I understand.”
“Neither myself nor Galan or Paralos will have a vote in the matter,” she continued. “A simple majority will decide. Now, what say you, my brothers and sisters?”
Anemolie was the first to speak up. “Guilty,” she said.
Amara nodded, seemingly as unsurprised as the rest of the Circle. She looked to Soraste next. The silent god wouldn’t return her stare. Instead, she looked to Paralos when she answered. “Not guilty,” she said softly.
The news didn’t faze Amara, but Galan supplied the damning gaze his master surely wanted to give.
“Tamaril,” Amara said. “How have you decided?”
Paralos tried to catch his stare before he answered, hoping to sway the god with a final pleading look. Tamaril never looked his way. Instead, he stared down at the frozen surface of the moon. His light grew still.
“Tamaril?”
“Yes, my Lady.”
“Your decision?”
The longer his pause, the more hope Paralos felt. If Tamaril would fall, Balenor surely would find the courage to oppose her, and the day would be won.
“What is your decision?” Amara said, her voice growing rigid.
Tamaril faced her. “My decision…is that Meryn is guilty, as you have charged.”
Anemolie beamed at the announcement, while beside her, Balenor could only look on in horror as the decision went to Cerenus next.
“Well I’ll be damned if I’m the deciding vote,” Cerenus said. “I say Not Guilty in the interest of keeping things interesting. Let Balenor kill her if he wants.”
With the votes tied at two, all eyes shifted to Balenor, who seemed to instantly deflate. Paralos gave him as hard a stare as he could, hoping that if he couldn’t convince the god of Meryn’s innocence, he could at least scare him into acting in her defense. I will come for you first, he tried to make his stare convey. If she dies, you will die soon after. He let his red light shine.
The moment stretched on, fueled by Balenor’s reluctance to speak. Amara pressed him.
“Your answer,” she said.
“I need more time,” Balenor replied.
“This Circle cannot wait for you to feel good about your choice, Balenor. There is no easy decision here, only the right one.”
Balenor looked around, pleading for someone to come to his aid, but no one looked ready to help. Defeated, his shoulders slumped. Paralos felt like killing him on the spot. The spineless mass didn’t deserve his power.
“Say it!” Galan shouted. “Make us wait no longer, Balenor.”
Balenor’s light danced with anxious energy. “I do not give this decision lightly,” he began.
“Out with it,” Galan snarl
ed.
Balenor shrank again. It took him a moment to regain his courage to speak. “In light of the evidence presented, I feel I have no choice but to pronounce Meryn…not…not guilty of her crimes.”
Paralos couldn’t believe what he’d witnessed. By the expression of Amara’s allies, neither could they.
“You spineless fool!” Galan shouted.
“I made the only choice I could,” Balenor replied in a meek voice. “Meryn is not here to defend herself.”
“Of course she isn’t here! She’s on the run because she’s guilty!” Anemolie said. She shifted toward Amara. “His vote is nullified. Clearly he is not fit to make a choice. He is deranged.”
“Not deranged,” Amara replied coolly. “Simply wrong.”
Paralos expected a look of relief in Balenor’s eyes that Amara did not fire back with her wrath. Instead, he seemed more wounded than had she called him a traitor. “I’m sorry,” the god said. He broke away from the Circle and dissolved into a fleeting shaft of light.
Cerenus laughed to himself as he drifted away next. “Well that didn’t disappoint. Goodbye, all.” He launched himself into the depths of space. Soraste was quick to join him in his exit.
Paralos remained to face his enemies. They eyed him with a collective contempt. He looked at each of them before preparing his own departure.
“Paralos,” Amara said. “When you see Meryn, tell her that I will honor the Circle’s judgment for as long as our union holds. She has nothing to fear from me.”
As long as our union holds. Still giddy from his victory, he let the threat pass unacknowledged. “I’ll have to find her first, of course.”
Amara nodded. “Of course.”
“You must feel proud of yourself,” Anemolie hissed at him.
“No,” he answered as he began to dissolve into light. “Not of myself.”