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Malcolm Tent
Malcolm Tent

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Wish upon the Stars chapter 1003

Unfortunately, the fight was probably the last bit of genuine relaxation I was going to have for a while. Specifically, I’d been called upon to come before the elder’s council in regards to the trial. The meeting had actually been delayed a bit, and before I’d been summoned we’d been planning to go to that Kingdom Siege event Vicky mentioned to look for a Master of Banking, but once the elders called, I was obligated to answer.

“Just stay calm,” my mother told me anxiously. “This is a formality, your father normally they would choose the tribunal for your trial at the meeting, but since only three of them have been Wishmasters, it’s kind of predetermined. This is more of a formality than anything else. So be respectful, polite, and try not to bow and scrape. But don’t be confrontational. Just stay calm no matter what you do!”

She gripped my shoulders anxiously as she spoke, shaking me slightly, and I gave her a dry look. “I mean, I wasn’t. Until about ten seconds ago. But thanks for trying.”

Grimacing sheepishly, she let my shoulders go. “Right. Sorry. That’s my bad. I’m just WORRIED, you know?” She glanced towards the colossal doors of the council chamber. “Seeing what Ari has been going through…the idea of losing you makes me sick.”

I pulled her into a tight hug. “Hey, I have a DESTINY, ok? I’m the next Wishmaster. I’m married to the daughter of a god. Not to mention I’m related to half the current divine pantheon. Let’s make a list. Grandma and grandpa are HERE right now, and grandpa is one of the ten strongest S-rankers in the universe and a legitimate demigod. Grandma won’t let anyone lay a finger on me, and if she steps in and gets hurt, Black Sorrow will peel the skin off whoever does it, if she gets the chance before Grandpa Nick does it.”

She relaxed slightly as she pulled away. My mom was very close to her parents, and had unshakeable faith in her father. “That’s true,” she said slowly, chewing on her lip. “Most of the council aren’t combatants either. The majority of them couldn’t stop my dad if he wanted to save you.”

“I’d like to reiterate that your life is not in danger,” my dad added dryly. “You will be EXILED if you’re charged. Granted, you might be attacked AFTER that, but you aren’t under threat from anyone HERE.”

“Neither was Derran,” I said bluntly. “How did that work out for him?”

He winced. “That’s…a good point. But the council took the oath. Until you DO get exiled, they’re bound not to harm you. So this meeting won’t be a big deal.”

I nodded gratefully and approached the door. Crell stepped up next to me. “You ready for this?” he asked me nervously. “Because I’ll be honest, I’m somewhat intimidated. Are you sure you want me to do this?”

“You’re basically my official lawyer,” I chuckled. “I don’t know who else I’d ask. Could have my dad do it, but given his history with Percy and the family in general that seems needlessly antagonistic. But like he said, this is a formality. No one is expecting you to bust out a brilliant legal defense and immediately save my bacon. They’re just going to confirm the situation, tell me the relevant legal information from the charter so you know where to do your research, and then let us go.”

He snorted. “Shut up and listen, got it.” He turned back to the doors. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

I nodded, reaching up to knock on the door. After a brief pause, a solemn voice said “Enter.”I pushed the door open, stepping into the large chambers, while Crell slipped in behind me.

The council chamber wasn’t what I expected. I’d been thinking it would be a conference room, or some kind of meeting hall. A big round table where everyone could sit around debating maybe. It was none of those things.

My first impression of the hall was scale. It was HUGE. Not just normal room huge, either. Spatially expanded huge. In fact, it didn’t seem like a room at all. It was more like a world. When I stepped through the door, it swung shut behind me, slamming with a boom, and we stepped out onto a long, thin catwalk of dark stone. The catwalk was hanging in mid air, over a bottomless chasm filled with churning clouds.

Dark vapor roiled and seethed below us, mirrored in the sky above, and I could smell an overwhelming scent of ozone sparking on the air. We followed the catwalk to a single round platform of the same rock. Past the end of the platform, the endless abyss of clouds churned, broken by a series of thirteen towers of black rock, each set with a luxurious throne on which sat an S-ranker. They stared down at me impassively, literally sitting in judgement, and I stared back at them with worry.

“Welcome to the Path Choosing Chamber,” my grandfather said from his seat off to one side. While none of the thrones were behind the door, they were arrayed in an almost full circle, so any given throne I picked to focus on put one or more of them behind me.

I nodded to him. “Gramps,” I said casually. “Nice to be here. Cool place you’ve got here. You can tell the person who designed it wanted visitors to feel comfortable and welcomed.”

His implacable mask cracked, a grin spreading across his face. “What can I say? Sometimes subtlety is a waste of time. How will you know you’re beneath us unless we’re ACTUALLY dozens of feet above your head. Having to strain your neck to look at us makes it much clearer than just saying it out loud.”

“Enough.” Desmond said in annoyance. “We’re not here for banter. This is a formal inquest before a trial. Statements need to be given, pleas entered, and we need to inform the accused of his rights and responsibilities under the charter.”

I shrugged. “Well, not guilty, obviously. This whole thing is absurd, you can’t honestly believe-”

“SILENCE!” boomed a familiar voice. I turned to glare up at my Uncle Percy. “The accused will not address this body regarding the pending charges! Any further attempts to bias the potential jury pool will result in contempt and possible immediate ruling in favor of the prosecution.”

“Watch yourself, Percival,” Desmond growled. “You aren’t in charge here. You don’t get to make unilateral decisions about punishments.” He shot me a mildly apologetic look. “He is right, however. You can’t address the council regarding your charges outside the official court setting. At least not to attempt to dispute the charges. We’ll take your statement, and your plea is entered, but there are procedures to follow.”

I nodded slowly. “Sorry, won’t happen again. I take it you’ll take the lead on the statement then? Ask me the questions you need the answers too? I don’t know how I’m going to give a statement without biasing you all, so you’re going to have to walk me through it.”

“Acceptable,” said the eldest of the former Wishmasters. Desmond seemed to be in charge of the council, though I hadn’t really picked up on that before. I also glanced around at the branch leaders. I remembered a long time ago, back at the conclave, Zeke had mentioned that not all of them were bloodline holders. Some of them had married into the clan. It made me think of Vicky and my Aunt and Uncle who I hadn’t met. I got the impression things were hard for them. How difficult must it be for an outsider to get a place on the council.

It made me think of the ‘orphan’ branches. Wendy and Patricia were treated differently than the other branch heads. I hadn’t really understood why until now, but maybe those two were the non-Wyndham branch heads. It would explain their insistence on taking in Wyndhams without much family background.

Desmond had gone silent, seemingly thinking about what he wanted to ask. “In your own words, describe the involvement of the Void in the succession war trial, and your role in foiling their objectives.”

That was…broad. It gave me lots of wiggle room. But I wasn’t the best person to use that wiggle room. I glanced at Crell, who nodded and stepped forward. “Crell Preost for the accused, your excellencies,” he said respectfully. “If I might answer for my client?” Desmond nodded, and Crell let out a sigh of relief, and then began to talk.

I’d filled him in on everything at various points over the last day or two, at least what he didn’t already know. He was descriptive, concise, and articulate. He made me sound better than I could have managed, at least, and despite Percy trying to interject and derail things, he just continued to smoothly recount everything in the most beneficial way possible to my case. I was honestly kind of impressed.

“Fascinating,” murmured Desmond. He didn’t comment more than that, avoiding letting me know what he was thinking. He glanced around the chamber. “We have chosen the tribunal who will sit in judgement for your trial. Myself, Cristoph, and Warren. Only a Wishmaster has the right to judge a Wishmaster, and so you shall have a jury of your peers, or at least as close as any might come to meeting such a criteria. Do you have any objections to this selection, Heir Wyndham?”

The formality was kind of intimidating, but I could tell he wasn’t trying to make this hard for me. Like my parents said, they were giving me the benefit of the doubt. Given the stakes of what was happening, the charter had been written to make sure that while an inquest like this WAS always an option, it would be an option of last resort. They would hear Devon out, but wouldn’t encourage him, because they didn’t want other clan members trying to use this particular law to stir up trouble in the future. I grimaced internally at the idea of the very public soul destruction waiting for my cousin if he lost this.

The fact that Percy was his father wasn’t lost on me as I took in my uncle’s seething fury. I was glad they hadn’t tried to put him on the tribunal, at least.

“I have no objections,” I told him solemnly as I bowed my head. “Was that everything that you needed?” I’d been told this would be pretty quick, and I didn’t want to overstay my welcome. Getting it done and getting gone was our best bet to leave a good impression.

He shook his head. “You may go,” he said. “We’ll be in touch about the next phase of the trial. The charter will be made available to your representative. The relevant subsections to this particular incident is in chapter four thousand eight hundred and seven, subsection nine eight two, beginning with paragraph eleven and ending with paragraph two thousand four hundred and seven. Relevant appendices may be cited given proper cause, to be determined at the discretion of the tribunal. Do you acknowledge your legal standing as cited?”

I glanced at Crell, who nodded, and then did the same. “I understand. Thank you for your time.”

“You may go,” he said with a tone of finality. As soon as he finished speaking, his stone chair tower dropped into the cloud bank below, retracted like a deadbolt on a door. My grandfather nodded to me, then did the same. One by one the others disappeared, until only Percy remained. He glared hatefully at me for a moment, then vanished as well, leaving us alone on the platform.

“Well, that was certainly dramatic,” I said cheerfully. “Apparently I get that from BOTH sides of my family tree. Now, let’s get going. I believe we both have some reading to do.” Then I turned and strolled back down the catwalk, Crell following behind. They wanted him to study the charter, but I wasn’t going to ignore it either. Dantalion was going to get a workout.

Comments

Idk if he has enough time but it would be hilarious if Shane study’s the entire codex

Kemizle


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