The courtroom seemed to hold its breath as Judge Diren's words hung in the air. The murmurs died into a tense, expectant silence, broken only by the rustle of robes and the soft clink of Kyle's chains as he shifted.
"Bring forth the accuser and the witness," Diren commanded.
A side door opened, and Kevin walked in, flanked by the two golden-armored guards.
His eyes, once familiar and earnest, now darted nervously, avoiding Kyle's gaze.
"State your name and relation to the accused," Diren intoned.
"K-Kevin, designation 012," Kevin stammered. "We were… bunkmates in the Hall of Aspirants."
"And what did you hear the accused, designation 078, known as Kyle, say?"
Kevin took a shaky breath. "He said… he said he was glad the gods disappeared. That he hated them." The words, spoken aloud in this sanctified space, seemed to suck the warmth from the room. A collective hiss of outrage rippled through the spectators.
Judge Diren's expression was one of profound sorrow, as if personally wounded. "Glad for the Vanishing? The source of all our chaos, our suffering? The great abandonment?" He turned his green eyes, now hard as jade, onto Kyle. "Do you deny this?"
Kyle's dry throat constricted.
A lie would be as damning as the truth. If he denied and they decided to use an artifact to force the truth from him, his fate would be worse.
He thought of his mother, swinging gently on the rope, and how he hadn't been able to grieve before being taken.
He lifted his chin, the chains rattling. "I do not deny it."
Gasps echoed. Judge Diren gestured to Kevin and the latter left escorted by the same guards.
Now only in the presence of the court, he leaned forward. "You confess to the crime of High Blasphemy, a rejection of the divine origin and order, before this court?"
"I confess to speaking the truth of my heart," Kyle said, his voice gaining a brittle strength. "The gods made us for sport. They left us with a mess of their children and their powers. Why should I be grateful? Why should I worship architects of such cruelty?"
"Silence!" Diren slammed a gavel made of luminous bone onto the bench. "Your very existence is a gift of their grace! The blood in your veins, the potential you squander, is a relic of their majesty! Your hatred is a corruption of that gift, a rot that must be excised."
Kyle gritted his teeth, he wouldn't stand for such lies and self-deceit.
"The gods left their thrones empty and yet we still kneel before vacant seats of power." He argued and whispers built up in the court.
Judge Diren's face paled and beads of sweat piled up but Kyle wasn't done.
"If the gods you so desperately cling to are truly all-powerful, shouldn't they smite me for my blasphemy?! Why rely on their descendants?!!!"
A member of the court slammed her hands into her seat and stood, "SILENCE!!! DRAGONS DO NOT REACT TO THE TAUNTS OF A WORM!!"
Kyle snapped at her, "Neither does an empty den."
Judge Diren slammed his gavel into his chair to silence everyone.
His green eyes seemed to burn through Kyle.
"Apologize. Pray for forgiveness and your sentence shall be lightened. A final mercy from the gods."
Kyle stared at the floor. He could apologize and be sent to prison or made a state worker.
After all, despite his bravado, he didn't want to die.
He inhaled sharply, "Gods of our realm and the realms beyond, forgive me." Kyle muttered and Judge Diren's lips curled up in an arrogant smile.
Making Kyle apologize was far better than just executing him. This way, he could ensure that whatever rebellion his speech might have lit in anyone present would be squashed.
The prayer sent a fresh wave of hopeful whispers through the crowd but Kyle wasn't done yet.
"Forgive me… for not being a mindless puppet who follows your misguided doctrines despite the claim of free will."
Judge Diren's gavel pounded his seat once more and he shook his head, "It's clear your soul is tainted beyond even the benevolence and reprieve of the gods. Your sentence is decided. Execution."
Kyle's mind raced. Execution. He had expected it but hearing the words settled the weight in his heart.
"The Execution will be held at dusk in the Plaza of Whispering Bones," Diren announced. "Let all who harbor such poisonous thoughts look upon this blasphemer and understand the cost. Take him away."
The guards hauled Kyle to his feet. As he was dragged back toward the rising platform, his eyes swept the courtroom one last time. He saw Sacred Sound standing in a shadowed alcove, her icy blue hair glimmering faintly.
Her expression was unreadable, but her gaze held his for a fraction of a second with a look that was neither pity nor condemnation, it almost seemed like interest.
Then the floor descended, and the wooden cell swallowed him again, plunging him back into the cold and the dark. The ceiling sealed shut with a final-sounding thud.
Alone once more, the reality crashed down. Dusk. He had only hours.
He tested the shackles again. The artifact engravings hummed under his touch, nullifying any attempt to summon his nascent light. He was trapped, utterly.
His initial fury at Kevin had burned out, leaving a cold, clear ember of resolve. They wanted to make an example of him. They wanted to use his death to reaffirm their shaky faith in absent, uncaring masters.
A strange calm settled over him. If this were the end, he would not give them the satisfaction of seeing him break. He would not pray. He would meet the void they so feared with his hatred intact.
For the gods of the world were flawed and he was in the right.