Eldritch Exorcist

Once the jester finished speaking, Ophelia joined the applause. To her surprise, despite the number of people gathered, it was relatively sparse. She looked around and saw a range of reactions. Sam and the rest of the Third Chamber seemed amused by the whole spectacle, with the most significant portion of the applause coming from them. The middle section also clapped, although there were a few groups who simply sat through it. The least amused section seemed to be the nobles, with the majority ignoring the speech and a few looking clearly pissed.

Of course, in all sections, there were outliers within each faction, but the trend was pretty clear. Once the applause died down, a delegation came through the same door from which the jester had appeared.

At the front walked a young, handsome man dressed in all white, wearing a tall hat and long, elegant religious robes. In his left hand was a silver crosier. He also wore a large silver cross around his neck. Ophelia couldn’t make out the details of his face from a distance, but he seemed overall handsome in the boyish sense.

Ophelia could hear gasps of surprise all around her the moment he walked into the room.

“What the fuck?” Q’Shar asked aloud, and even Sam frowned deeply.

“What is it?” Ophelia asked.

“They changed the Pope,” Sam whispered to her. “He was old, so it’s not that much of a surprise, but usually it’s a whole process.”

“Is it bad?” she asked.

“Not that bad. The Pope just leads the talks. The power is within the votes. But he does hold power within the religious faction and the nobles. It’s… a surprise,” the cat explained to her, his eyes glued to the upper level.

Ophelia went back to observing the procession. Behind the Pope walked what she assumed were the cardinals, dressed in black and red. To her surprise, she recognised one of them. It took her a few seconds, as she didn’t follow the news, but she was pretty sure he was the mortal world’s Pope.

After the religious delegation, a few different people walked in. First, a man in tight military clothing, devoid of any insignia, with a handlebar moustache and a golden mace in his hand. Behind him walked a man wearing a strange fusion between a suit and animal skins, with a hat topped by an animal skull. The peculiar clothing was elegantly decorated yet bizarre, in a wild kind of way, like the blind woman before. He carried a golden sword with a hilt shaped like a pair of scales.

And last to walk in was an elven woman in a light, flowing white dress. She carried a massive book with her and a golden quill.

They all took their places, with the Pope—the one dressed in white—taking his place on the huge platform from which the jester had previously spoken. His movement was once again met with murmuring. The cardinals took their places at his sides, six of them in total, although none seemed to have a place to speak from. On the lower levels, the three strange people took their places, with the man with the mace sitting on the second set from the top to the right of centre, the man with the sword sitting in the dead centre of the entire platform complex, and the woman sitting on the same level but to the left, as she opened the massive book and prepared to write.

Once seated, the Pope looked over the gathered people and struck the crosier once, accompanied by the strange ring of the ever-present bell.

“By the authority given to me by the hand of our ancestors, I pronounce the beginning of the 346th Sabbath.” He hit his staff on the floor, and the bell rang once again. “Before we begin the days of justice, there is one more announcement that needs to be made. I would like to appoint Cardinal Camenzo to explain to you the change you must all be wondering about.”

As he said that, one of the older cardinals stepped forward and took the floor.

“All you gathered here must be wondering about the new Pope. With great sadness, I must inform you that the previous Pope, Alexander the Third, passed away three days ago from old age. The Lord has called for him to join His side in this troublesome time, so that a new generation could face the chaos coming to our world. And as such, we decided to postpone the news to avoid adding to the confusion of already turbulent times. Two days ago, under great time pressure, we decided to choose a new Pope—one much younger. So, before we begin the days of justice, we would like to introduce to all the representatives of the arcane world the new leader of the church. Please, all, welcome—Clementus, the Second of his name.”

“You have got to be kidding,” Q’Shar whispered.

“Clementus,” Sam chuckled. “Should have added something like ‘the Great’ while they were at it.”

Ophelia saw that the applause was accompanied by much whispering, mainly from the Third Chamber.

“They aren’t that surprised—not all, at least,” Q’Shar said, looking at the two remaining groups.

“We apologise for such a sudden change and truly hope that you will understand our decision. Given the suddenness of the situation and the need to avoid further chaos, the other roles of the Sabbath leaders will remain unchanged. And please, let us begin the meeting in peace,” he finished, and after lightly bowing, returned the floor to the new Pope.

“We will now begin the days of justice,” he said, knocking the silver staff against the floor, and took a seat behind the high podium.

Then the man in skins with the golden sword stood up and approached his speaking platform.

“I have received fifteen cases affecting the distribution of voting rights. So without further ado, let us begin.”

After that, what followed could be described as a series of court hearings. Ophelia was looking forward to what would be a legal drama in the magic world, but was quickly disappointed.

After a special podium was carried into the room and set in the middle of the empty space between the audience and the speaking platform, the legal proceedings began. They were all cases of families apparently not showing up for any Sabbaths for the past few years, and what to do with their voting rights.

In the end, in all cases, it was decided that if no instructions were left, they would be counted as withholding their votes. Then the gathering was asked if further investigation into the missing families was required before proceeding, and everyone voted no, as apparently it was common knowledge that those were simply families that went extinct. Still, none had bothered to address it properly before.

After about five such cases, a break was proposed, but given the relatively easy proceedings, everyone decided to continue and finish the ‘boring’ part.

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Time slowly swam forward, and after a few hours of relatively uneventful legal hearings, the man—who by now Ophelia had learned was a high judge—took out another case’s papers. However, she could immediately notice that this one was completely different. Whereas the previous ones were mainly composed of a few papers, this one was a massive binder.

He also didn’t start reading out the opening words, but instead seemed to hesitate for a second. Then Ophelia caught something—a quick look in their direction.

“Oh ho, something’s wrong,” Q’Shar whispered. “The high judge came from our faction. This was a warning.”

She saw that even Sam, who possessed a strange ability to fall half-asleep the moment anyone started to speak in judicial language, woke up, looking sharply toward the podium.

“Case number 324567. This one was brought to our attention by the Riswalt family and is a request for the removal of voting rights for the Winser clan, based on their crimes against the Alhazred family.”

The moment the judge finished his sentence, there was an uproar in the hall. The previous occasional murmur was now a full-blown bustle all around. She could see Sam and Q’Shar frown deeply.

“Didn’t you say the Winser family was part of their faction?” asked Sam.

“They were, at least for quite some time. I don’t get it…” the cat answered, looking to the noble side. “But I don’t like where this is going.”

The judge had to use the sword to calm the gathering, slamming it hilt-first into the podium in front of him, which produced a loud ring of the ever-present bell.

“Silence!” shouted the man, and waited until everyone calmed down. “The case is an apology for one of their subordinate families acting out and will be presented by the head of the Riswalt household.”

At those words, an older man in elegant, rich-looking clothing stepped onto the middle podium as servants turned it around so the platform faced the seating areas. The man took his spot and, looking in Sam’s direction, started speaking.

“It is my great sorrow to stand here before you and speak of such an unpleasant happening. But I’m afraid to say that during our internal investigation, we found that the Winser family committed a grave sin against the Alhazred clan. Without any consideration for the thoughts of the main family, they attacked with the intention to kill the head of the Alhazred family. And while it is my greatest joy to hear that the man himself survived the attack, the real culprit got away. And while the Alhazred clan’s investigation didn’t catch them—”

“Fucking bastard,” Q’Shar whispered.

“We did! And we came here to demand justice against the evildoers, even if it means doing so to our own detriment. We only ask for fitting and swift punishment against the perpetrator.”

The man finished his small speech and stepped off the podium. He was a good actor, looking as if he had made a tough choice, his steps heavy, jaw muscles lightly flexed, visible through the light stubble on his chin.

“Now let the accused speak—unless the victim would like to speak first, as is their right,” spoke the high judge.

“We withhold our voice for now,” Sam said, not moving from his spot.

Then another man, from the noble faction, walked toward the podium. He had a build reminiscent of a bear, with muscles covered in fat, like a strongman who let himself go. Taking his spot at the podium, he looked over the gathered people, his beady eyes stopping at Sam’s. If the Riswalt family head were a great actor, then this man would be an amateur one could see play a role in a cheap soap opera. He barely hid a smile as he addressed the gathering with an insincere voice.

“Yes! We did attack the Alhazred family heir!” he spoke lightly.

This caused a stir among the people, particularly the Third Chamber, which was outraged. Although there was something else—as Ophelia looked around, she saw questioning looks directed at Sam’s back.

“We did, and we had a good reason. The mana pathway!” the man shouted, causing a stir once again as the high judge had to slam the sword hilt-down. “The Alhazred clan is a shadow of its former self! We wanted to help control the vein and extended a friendly invite. But what did we get in turn? Nothing—we were ignored. And when we heard the man was returning from Norway, we sent a delegation to extend the invite in person with all the ceremony… but they were attacked! So we did try to kill Samuel Alhazred! And the fact that I’m still standing here is—” Another loud bell cut the man’s words.

“This is not a podium to make offensive speeches, but to present your case. One more warning, and you will be punished and have your voice taken away. Do you understand?” asked the high judge, to which the man nodded, clearly pissed about getting interrupted.

“In short, yes, we did attack—albeit only as a retaliation. We question whether a single person should wield such power solely on the strength of his ancestors' accomplishments! I rest my voice,” he finished with a light smirk.

“I will not hear about ancestors’ accomplishments from someone whose ancestors’ only accomplishment was licking the boots of those stronger than them,” Sam’s voice rang in the hall, causing the Winser man’s face to turn from pride into red anger. He was a really terrible actor.

“The victim can take a while to decide on their response, or request a break—”

“We are aware of our rights,” Q’Shar spoke. “We will decide our actions shortly.”

The justice nodded as Q’Shar put his paw on a magic circle carved into the wood in front of them. The sounds around them were cut off, but Ophelia still felt the gazes of others boring into them.

“I’m sorry,” the cat said, looking quite guilty.

“That’s what you get for scheming—we should have killed them the moment we got the chance,” Sam sighed. “But we can’t turn back time, so what now?”

“Sam, you know what he’s trying to do, right?”

“Admission of guilt mixed with an accusation and a clear challenge to our authority. He wants a fight,” Sam said, unusually serious.

“Shouldn’t they be found guilty if he admitted to attacking you? Can’t the court resolve this?” Ophelia asked.

“They can, but an accusation like that will result in a large proceeding—even if we request a private court case, there will still be a lot of accusations and challenges to the clan’s authority,” Q’Shar explained. “We don’t want a court case, but it’s so obvious they are trying to force an official duel—they must have prepared something for it.”

“We should go for the fight anyway,” Sam said in a heavy voice. “Requesting a proof hearing, letting the court do its job… that’s not how the Alhazred clan handles things. We commanded respect through power and fear. Even if we win the case, it will be a sign of weakness. I’ll admit part of the fault and request a ceremonial duel.”

“Sam, they clearly want that.”

“Did you hide my information? The mutation and ascension?”

“Yes, but they should have assumed—”

“Doesn’t matter.” His eyes shifted to the noble faction, then to the people behind them. “This can be a blessing in disguise. You said yourself I was a leader of the faction, and you can sense their looks—they, too, are curious about the strength of their leader. This will help further your plans.”

“You sure?”

Sam nodded. “Let’s throw them a curveball,” he said, smiling, and then stood up.

“The Alhazred clan would like to take the floor,” he spoke, and after a nod from the judge, made his way to the platform. “Yes, I killed the members of the Winser family. However, there are differences from the story told by the family head,” Sam said, and Ophelia could see the fat man smile, discussing something with the first speaker, clearly looking forward to their rebuttal.

But Sam’s following words wiped that smile clear off his face. “I was well aware of the identity of the man I killed—well, halfway through at least. When they started begging for their lives, they did say who their master was… and I killed them nonetheless. Afterwards, you can surely understand that I’m one man—dealing with worms wasn’t high on the priority list with the chaos coming. So I didn’t dig any deeper. And if you are curious why I killed the Winser man in cold blood, it is exactly as the man himself said. They questioned the authority of the Alhazred clan. And the weak don’t get to question the strength of those way above. They simply paid their price for their arrogance.”

There was a stir in the hall—a mixture of reactions: shock, laughter, surprise, and anger.

“As such, I declare it a death grudge and proclaim here in the name of the gods and in the presence of all gathered: the Alhazred clan and the Winser family can’t coexist. I demand a judicial duel between the clans. And as I proclaimed it a death grudge, I use my authority as the family head… and demand it be a death duel.”