The rain in the slums of Veridia had a rather unique scent, a mix of wet cobblestone, cheap soap, and the unpleasant smell of animal hides. To Kael, it was the smell of order. He stood straight, his boiled leather armor shining under the flickering gas lamp. He felt the familiar, comforting weight of the city's Law on his shoulders, a cherished one.
For Kael, the Law was not just a collection of rules; it was a force, a shield that protected the common person from the chaos and uncertainty that exists in our world. Every patrol was a prayer. And no one embodied that Law more than Captain Valerius.
"Look sharp, Kael," Valerius's voice boomed. He was a formidable man, his grey-streaked beard cut to a ducktail, his eyes holding the certainty of steel. "Tonight, we remind these rats that the Law has teeth."
Kael's chest swelled with pride. Intelligence discovered a smuggling group using an old tannery warehouse as their retreat. The smugglers had been stocking up on contraband and unregistered artifacts, hazards that threatened Veridia's peace.
They moved in formation, six guards flanking the Captain. The stained warehouse door was split open with a single kick from Valerius. The air inside was thick with dust and a faint smell that resembled sulfur.
There, in the center of the large, empty space, stood a single figure: an elderly man with flour-dusted hands and terrified eyes. He stood defensively in front of a small stack of three crates.
"Finnian the baker?" Kael murmured, his brow furrowing. He knew that man. Finnian's shop was three streets over. He was known for giving leftover bread to street urchins, not for dealing in contraband.
"He is the rat we were warned of," Valerius declared, his voice echoing in the room. "A traitor to the peace of this city."
Finnian trembled, holding up his palms. "Captain, I swear, it is a misunderstanding! A man paid me to hold these crates. Said they were ship parts. I know nothing of any smuggling!"
"Ignorance is no shield from the Law," Valerius spoke, striding forward. He kicked the top crate, and the lid split open, not revealing artifacts, but lumps of black ore. Shadow-iron. A substance that's illegal to possess. Highly volatile.
Kael's gut tightened. It felt wrong. This was too simple.
"I didn't know!" Finnian cried, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Please, Captain, I have a family. I am a loyal citizen!"
Valerius stopped before the old man, his shadow engulfing the old man. His voice dropped to a low, chilling tone. "Loyalty has a price, baker. A price you didn't pay me last month."
The words struck Kael. Pay me? The phrase didn't make any sense. The Law isn't supposed to take by force. The Law is supposed to protect.
"Sir?" Kael whispered.
Valerius glanced back. "Sometimes, an example has to be made to ensure other people's cooperation. It is for the greater good. The Law must be seen as absolute, that which shouldn't be trifled with under any circumstances."
The Captain drew a short, wicked-looking dagger from his belt and pressed it into Finnian's hand. "You see?" Valerius said loudly, his public voice returning. "He drew a weapon on a Head Gaurd! I only act in self-defense!"
Finnian's eyes widened in terror as he slowly realized the weight of the situation he had been roped into.
"No," Kael whispered. It was the only word he could form. His entire world, the divine force of Law he had built his life upon, began to crumble right in front of his eyes.
Before Finnian could even drop the dagger in his hand, Valerius drew his sword.
The sound of steel severing flesh echoing throughout the room.
The world went sideways.
The Captain's triumphant voice turned into a distorted buzz, and Kael couldn't make out any of the Captain's words anymore. A sharp ringing filled his ears, loud enough to make him feel as if his head split in half.
He looked at the floor, and the reality of what lay there tore him apart. He saw Finnian, lifeless in a pool of blood. But he also saw Finnian standing, pleading for his life. He saw the cobblestones beneath him stained blood-red, and he saw them clean and dry. He saw the scene of a fair enforcement of the Law, and the scene of a brutal murder, and a dozen other possibilities, all existing at once, an uncertain sea of what-happened and what-could-have-happened.
The world was no longer solid. And the sight of it threatened to crack his mind.
"Kael! What is the matter with you?" Valerius barked, turning his attention to his subordinate's current, unstable state. "You are a witness. You saw him attack me."
The lie was so evident, so fundamentally wrong, that it altered Kael's perception of reality itself. The shield of the Law wasn't just broken; it had been a fabricated lie from the very beginning.
"Liar," Kael exhaled.
Valerius's face hardened. "Unfortunate. It seems the shock was too much for you." He raised his bloody sword, the weapon that had just been used to carry out Captain's notion of Law.
Kael was frozen, not by fear, but by a reality that he refused to come to terms with. He threw his hands up in a gesture of defense.
The sword stopped.
It didn't collide against armor or a shield. It just stopped. One inch from Kael's face, vibrating with leftover force but held back by nothing. It was as if the very concept of "impact" was unable to exist in the space in front of him.
Valerius stared, his eyes wide with disbelief, pushing against the impossible resistance.
Kael stared back, his heart hammering, feeling a strange rigidness in the air. It felt as solid as his faith had been only a few minutes earlier.
Something had stopped the blade, and it definitely wasn't mercy.