Episode 22
(Season 2 Episode 9)
Trial &
Tribulations
The courtroom was like something out of an old British movie,
but thankfully, without the powdered wigs. Zachariah stood by himself in a large wooden
square in the front corner of the High-Three room. On the other side of the High-Three was
another square box which was open for the advocates to interview the witnesses.
Between the crowd of onlookers and the High-Three
sat wooden tables, one for the accusing advocate and one for the defending
advocate and his group.
Zachariah had cringed when his group entered the room. The sight of a succubus and a ninja, outlawed
and despised, did not make him look innocent. A wave of decent washed through the crowd when
they entered.
“Rognaithe, do you understand the crimes you are accused
of?” The druid, Aodan, said with spite.
Zachariah looked around the room. “No, I don’t. This is insane.”
Mel shot daggers out of his eyes. “Zach, shut up!”
Zachariah scowled. “My name is Zachariah.”
Mel blinked. “Great
start, alienate the people judging your fate. Don’t make this easy for me, or anything.”
“Hey, ladies,” Mary said suddenly with frustration. “You guys want to lock it up.”
Mel and Zachariah now realized that, because of their
distance to each other across a room with great acoustics, they had been having
a screaming match. The accusing
advocate, Stintelrep, a tall lean and well put together nex, turned toward the
crowd with a smile. “It looks like they
are going to argue my case for me.”
The crowd laughed at Stintelrep’s joke and Mel knew, without
a shadow of a doubt, they were already in the hole. Mel had never had much care for Stintelrep,
even when he was a young boy and still in the good graces of Avalon. Stintelrep had been born, like most, into a
life of privilege. He had never spent a
day off of the floating city.
Mel would have to stow his contempt. It would not do him any good to show the hate
he had for these people who had no idea what it was like on the surface.
“Enough!” Aodan’s voice silenced the room instantly and put
all eyes to the front. “We are here to
decide the fate of a man’s life. This is
not a joking matter.”
No one spoke after Aodan so he began the ceremonies. “Stintelrep, make your case for Zachariah’s
guilt.”
Stintelrep bowed low. “Thank you High-Three, and thank you, people
of Avalon, I do not look to waste anyone’s time so I will get straight to the
point. Zachariah Van Sluyters, the
Rognaithe, attacked and killed three wards and wounded another during an
unprovoked act of violence.”
Stintelrep moved around the room as he spoke, beckoning the
crowd and court to agree with his charisma and presence. Mel would have a hard time overcoming it.
When it was Mel’s turn, he didn’t bother pacing around the
room or making a show, he knew these acts would be lost because of his height. So instead, he climbed onto his table and
ignored the crowd, staring at the High-Three.
“Zachariah did not do this. I am going to prove it.” He then sat down.
Mary turned and raised an eyebrow. “That was it?”
Mel frowned at her. “It
was straight and to the point.”
Zachariah was staring at Mel, mouthing the words, “what the
shit?”
Stintelrep was staring at him, then, finally realized that,
yes in fact, he was done. “Um… I would
like to bring Hammish, the ward, to the court.”
From the back walked a large tattooed druid who stood low
like a scared field mouse. With his big
size, this gave him a almost cartoony look. His right hand was missing and wrapped in
layers and layers of bandage. His
bloodshot sleepless eyes were locked on Zachariah.
His entire body was wracked with fear.
He stood in the empty witness box and Stintelrep beckoned
the man to tell his story. Hammish began to ramble through the sad story. His group of four had shown up in an inner
city Cleveland warehouse, deserted. They
were looking for a group of black magic users.
The job was routine and the mission was low-level; an easy takedown.
That is when it all went wrong.
Zachariah exploded from the shadows in a pin-striped suit. Hammish described Zachariah as some kind of
wraith, attacking without moving, being everywhere at the same time. Blades rained from the sky and grew from the
floor. Everyone died and Hammish was
wounded.
He did not know why Zachariah had let him live, but he had
then vanished into the dark from where he had come.
Stintelrep smiled. “I
believe this is all the proof I need, the word of a trusted ward.”
Stintelrep sat down and motioned to Mel, sarcastically, that
it was his turn.
Mel sat there and stared. The silence in the room was heavy and everyone
looked to Mel to do something.
He just sat there.
Mary whispered. “It’s
your turn.”
He continued to wait.
Slowly the court steward walked out and refilled Stintelrep’s
glass of water, then Mel’s. He then walked out.
The room had now spent almost a full 2 minutes in silence.
Finally, Drum had enough. “Meltoriptalfad, if you would please make your
case-”
Mel suddenly stood in the middle of the nex’s sentence,
grabbing the glass of water and over-head-pitched it across the room. The heavy glass thunked off Zachariah’s
forhead and water went everywhere before the glass tumbled to the floor.
Zachariah’s head snapped backwards and his hand went up to
cradle his eye. “What the fuck was that
for?!”
The room gasped at the act of violence. The vampire, Vince Delgato, snickered and
Aodan stood angry. “What is the meaning
of this?!”
“That hurt like hell!” Zachariah continued to whine.
Mel ignored everyone in the room and turned to Hammish. “A wraith? A deamon that rained blades from the sky and
grew them from the floor? That is how
you described Zachariah when he attacked you?”
Hammish nodded confused. “Yes, that’s what I said.”
Mel nodded and shrugged. “Interesting, because I just hit him in the
head with a water glass.”
Stintelrep stood. “I
don’t understand the point of this side show act?”
Mel looked at him like he was stupid. “The point is, this man is just that, a man. Not a monster. He’s akward, walks funny and oblivious.”
“As well as obnoxious.” Kahn mumbled under her breath.
“This is literally the worst help I have ever received.” Zachariah groaned.
“Shut up, jack ass.” Mel snarled at him before turning back to
Hammish. “So, you saw this man, you
already said he was wearing a suit. Is he dressed that way now?”
Hammish scowled. “No,
but he could have changed his clothes!”
Mel shook his head. “This
man is a dishwasher… professionally. He
can’t afford a suit.”
Zachariah looked at Mel, hurt. “Hey, I’m finding myself.”
“You’re finding out that you’re a loser” Mel shot back. “Were there any other noticeable differences?”
Hammish was reluctant. “Yes, his hair was longer. Held back with a pony tail.”
Stintelrep realized where Mel was going and stood abruptly. “This is outrageous. There is no evidence of a side-stepper!”
Mel turned and grinned.
“I think the evidence is obvious,” Mel
gestured to Zachariah. “Just look at
him.”
“Hey.” Zachariah
mumbled hurt.
Stintelrep shook his head. “And what of the one mind phenomenon? Zachariah would know everything about his
doppelganger! Why does he know nothing?”
“Allow me to explain.” A voice broke the argument and everyone in the
room turned to see a nex wrapped in ceremonial robes. Slowly, the delegate removed the hood and
cloak and dropped it to the floor.
The room collectively gasped.
Zachariah blinked and rubbed his eyes.
Standing in the aisle, dressed in a pin striped suit with
long slicked back hair in a pony tail behind him was Zachariah.
A second Zachariah.
A second Zachariah?! There goes
the neighborhood! But what is he here
for and where did he come from?! Zachariah is about to face his greatest challenge.
Himself.
Next week on…
Stranger Things; Zachariah’s Trial
TO BE CONTINUED…
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