Chronicle 24
The smell of antiseptic hung faintly in the air.
Love Hospital in Purushapura was a place of quiet
efficiency. Nurses moved through the corridors with practiced calm, doctors
spoke in measured voices, and patients rested behind neatly kept doors.
Semin was one of them.
His thigh remained heavily bandaged where the arrow had
struck him during the fighting in Aetheria. The wound itself had never been the
greatest concern. Ravi had removed the arrow at the scene, and thankfully it
had missed every major artery, nerve, and bone.
The problem had been the arrow itself.
Dirty.
The physicians had explained that the wound had become
infected shortly after his arrival. For a few days they had watched him
carefully, treating the infection aggressively with antibiotics while ensuring
no complications developed.
Now...
"...I think you've worried enough," the attending
physician said with a smile as he finished examining the wound.
Semin chuckled.
"I am a Blue Shield. Worrying is usually everyone
else's job."
The doctor laughed.
"Well, I'm happy to disappoint them. The infection is
responding exactly as we'd hoped."
"So..."
"So you're going to make a full recovery."
Semin let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"You'll stay one more night," the doctor
continued. "We'd like another round of antibiotics and one final
observation period."
"I can survive one more night."
"I've no doubt."
The doctor finished writing a few notes onto the chart.
"You were fortunate."
"I've been told."
"The arrow passed through soft tissue. Had it been only
a little higher..."
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
Semin nodded.
"I know."
"You should be back to normal with some physical
therapy and a little patience."
The Blue Shield smiled.
"Patience is harder."
"I suspected as much."
A knock came at the door.
"Come in."
The door swung open.
Azamat entered first.
He barely fit through the doorway.
"..."
"..."
Semin blinked.
Above Azamat's head floated an absurd cluster of bright
balloons.
One read:
GET WELL SOON!
Another featured an enormous smiling dinosaur wearing
sunglasses.
A third simply read:
YOU DIDN'T DIE!
Semin stared.
"...What..."
Azamat grinned proudly.
"I found them downstairs."
"You bought those?"
"They were cheerful."
"They're ridiculous."
"I know."
"They have a dinosaur."
"I noticed."
"...and why," Semin asked, pointing toward the
third balloon, "would anyone make one that says 'You Didn't Die'?"
Azamat looked at it.
"Hm."
"I didn't actually read all of them."
Ravi walked in behind him and burst into laughter.
"I told him to check first."
"I checked enough."
Rahim shook his head.
"I specifically remember saying, 'Maybe don't buy the
first balloons you see.'"
"They were colorful."
"They're also insane."
Zasaramel entered last.
He looked at the balloons for several seconds.
"..."
"..."
Finally he spoke.
"They certainly convey optimism."
Azamat beamed.
"See?"
"That is not what he said," Ravi replied.
Semin couldn't hold it together anymore.
He laughed.
Really laughed.
The kind that made his injured leg throb just enough to
remind him not to overdo it.
"Oww..."
"See?" Azamat said proudly. "I made him feel
better."
"You made his stitches angry," Ravi corrected.
"...but happier."
Azamat carefully tied the balloons to the side of the
hospital bed.
The smiling dinosaur slowly bobbed back and forth above
Semin's head.
"It is watching me."
"It is encouraging you," Azamat said.
"I think it's judging me."
"It has kind eyes."
"It has sunglasses."
"Exactly."
Rahim leaned against the wall.
"You should have seen the cashier."
"Oh?"
"She asked if Azamat's child was sick."
Semin looked at Azamat.
"You didn't."
"I told her they were for a warrior."
"...and?"
"She looked even more confused."
Ravi laughed again.
"I've never seen someone process that sentence so
slowly."
"'A... warrior?'"
Azamat nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes."
"Did you explain?"
"I said he was shot with an arrow."
"..."
"..."
"I think she believed we were filming a movie."
Even Zasaramel smiled.
After the laughter settled, the room became quieter.
Comfortably so.
Zas stepped closer to the bed.
"How are you truly feeling?"
Semin considered the question.
"Sore."
"I expected that."
"Tired."
"A reasonable answer."
"...but..."
He smiled.
"I'm going home."
Zas nodded once.
"Yes."
"Considering I was the only one who needed a hospital
stay, this news means…"
Semin leaned back into the pillow.
"…for once..."
He looked around at his friends.
"...this story has a happy ending."
Zas was quiet.
"Not the ending."
Semin looked at him.
"The beginning."
No one argued.
Outside the window, Purushapura carried on with another
peaceful afternoon.
The fighting was over.
King Havin's rule had fallen.
The innocent had survived.
The wounded would heal.
There would still be difficult days ahead.
Witnesses to protect.
Governments to rebuild.
Questions to answer.
...but for the first time in weeks...
No one needed to draw a weapon.
For now, five members of the Order of the Blue Shield simply
stood together in a hospital room, laughing over ridiculous balloons and
grateful that one of their own would soon be coming home.
The room was quiet.
Morning sunlight filtered gently through the curtains of
Love Hospital, casting soft light across the neatly made bed where Princess
Elara rested.
She still bore bandages across much of her body.
The physicians had given her encouraging news. Every
fracture would mend. Every cut would close. Every bruise would eventually fade.
Against all odds...
She had escaped without carrying a child.
Her body would recover.
Her mind...
That would take far longer.
A gentle knock came at the door.
Dr. Amina Idris stepped inside first.
Behind her walked another woman in a dark Peace uniform
whose confident stride seemed almost instinctive.
"Princess Elara," Amina said softly. "This is
Commanding Officer Norah Anam of Peace's Investigations and Operations
Division."
Norah inclined her head respectfully.
"It's an honor to meet you."
Elara managed a tired smile.
"You too."
Amina pulled a chair close to the bed.
"I'll remain here with you the entire time."
Norah remained standing for a moment before deliberately
taking the other chair instead.
She wanted to be at eye level.
"I know you've already been through more than anyone
should ever have to endure," Norah began.
Her voice was calm.
Measured.
"I'd like to ask you some questions about what happened
after the palace fell."
She paused.
"...but this interview happens at your pace."
"If something is too painful..."
"You tell me."
"If you want to stop..."
"We stop."
"If you don't remember..."
"That's alright."
"There are no wrong answers."
Elara nodded slowly.
"I understand."
Norah opened her notebook.
"When you're ready..."
"What happened?"
The room became very still.
...
Minutes passed.
Elara spoke quietly.
Sometimes steadily.
Sometimes not.
She described the fall of the palace.
The deaths.
The public square.
The chains.
The crowds.
The soldiers.
She never lingered on the details.
She didn't have to.
The few words she chose painted a picture horrifying enough
that the rest scarcely needed imagining.
At one point her voice became so small it was almost
inaudible.
"I didn't understand."
Amina gently reached over and held her hand.
"I kept asking myself why."
"I had always tried to help them."
Her expression tightened slightly.
"I really tried to help them."
"My father... King Havin... he mistreated the
Curgarden."
"He ordered the Siege."
"He allowed things I begged him to stop."
Her voice trembled, but she continued.
"I argued with him constantly."
"I told him they deserved fair treatment."
"I told him the Siege would only bring suffering."
"I told him to stop."
She stared blankly at the blanket covering her legs.
"He wouldn't listen."
"...but the Curgarden... they looked at me
like..."
She struggled to find the words.
"...like I wasn't a person anymore."
"They made me feel..."
Her breathing caught.
"...used."
Another pause.
"...humiliated."
"...less than human."
Silence settled over the room.
Norah had investigated murders.
Massacres.
War crimes.
She had learned to keep her expression under control.
Today...
She couldn't completely hide it.
Her jaw tightened.
Across from her, Amina lowered her eyes for a moment.
Even she needed a second before looking back at her patient.
Finally Norah spoke.
"There are no words that make what happened
acceptable."
"There never will be."
She closed her notebook for a moment.
"Hate..."
She searched for the right phrase.
"...can make people lose their minds."
"It can convince ordinary people that cruelty is
justice."
"It doesn't excuse them."
"It only explains how human beings become
monsters."
Elara quietly nodded.
"I know."
After allowing the silence to settle, Norah carefully
continued.
"I'd like to ask you about Eldred."
The change was immediate.
Not dramatic.
...but unmistakable.
Elara's tired expression softened.
A small smile appeared.
"He was wonderful."
Norah looked up from her notes.
"Wonderful?"
Elara laughed quietly.
"It sounds strange, doesn't it?"
She looked toward the window.
"He was sweet."
"So incredibly sweet."
"He cared whether I was comfortable."
"He kept asking if I was alright."
"I don't think he'd ever even held a woman's hand
before."
Despite everything, she smiled again.
"He was terrified."
Amina smiled faintly.
"Terrified?"
"Oh yes."
Elara actually laughed.
"There was one point where he looked at me with
absolute panic and asked if I was..."
She covered her mouth, embarrassed.
"...going to eat him."
The room was quiet for a heartbeat.
Then even Norah smiled.
"I assume he wasn't speaking literally."
"No."
Elara laughed again.
"He was just so nervous."
"I had to reassure him."
"I encouraged him."
"I guided him."
Her smile became wistful.
"He was awkward."
"...but kind."
"...and that's why I fell in love with him almost
immediately."
Norah's expression became serious again.
"I do have to ask this plainly."
"Did he ever force you to do anything against your
will?"
The answer came without hesitation.
"No."
Not merely quickly.
Certainly.
"I wanted him."
"I chose him."
"He never threatened me."
"He never pressured me."
"He never forced me."
"He treated me with more kindness than anyone had in
days."
She met Norah's eyes directly.
"If anyone suggests otherwise..."
"They're wrong."
Norah wrote carefully before looking up again.
"So you do not wish for Eldred to face criminal charges
for anything he did to you?"
"No."
Elara shook her head firmly.
"Absolutely not."
"He isn't one of them."
"He's just..."
She smiled again.
"...a sweet, awkward young man."
The smile slowly faded.
Her eyes drifted downward.
"...the monsters were the others."
The room fell quiet once more.
Finally Elara asked the question that had clearly been
waiting inside her.
"...Will they?"
Norah looked up.
"The men who did this."
"Will they ever answer for it?"
She swallowed.
"I've read so many stories..."
"...women who suffered like I did."
"Sometimes worse."
"...and nothing happened."
"The men just..."
"...walked away."
Neither woman answered immediately.
Because there wasn't an easy answer.
Finally Norah spoke honestly.
"I can't promise you every person responsible will be
found."
"I can't promise every prosecution will succeed."
"I won't lie to you."
She leaned forward.
"...but I can promise you this."
"My investigators will pursue every lead."
"We will document every crime."
"We will identify every suspect we can."
"...and as long as I wear this uniform..."
"I will do everything in my power to see that the
people responsible answer for what they did."
Elara searched her face.
Not for certainty.
For sincerity.
After a long moment...
She found it.
"...Thank you."
Norah closed her notebook.
"No, Princess."
She stood.
"Thank you."
"For trusting us with your story."
Amina gently squeezed Elara's hand.
For the first time since entering the room...
No one spoke.
Sometimes silence was the only respectful answer.
The room was quieter than the last.
The curtains had been left partly open, allowing the morning
light to spill across the hospital bed where Eldred rested.
His injuries were numerous.
Bruises still lingered across his body. Several ribs
remained heavily wrapped. One arm was held in a sling while cuts and abrasions
marked almost every visible patch of skin.
The doctors had assured him he would recover.
Eventually.
Recovery, however, would not be quick.
A gentle knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," Eldred replied.
Commanding Officer Norah Anam entered carrying a notebook
beneath one arm.
She offered a polite smile.
"Good morning."
"You must be Eldred."
"I am."
She approached the bed.
"I'm Commanding Officer Norah Anam with Peace
Investigations."
"I've already spoken with Princess Elara."
Eldred nodded.
"I figured you would."
Norah pulled up a chair.
"I know you've been through an enormous amount."
"I'm not here to accuse you of anything."
"I'm here because I need to understand exactly what
happened."
"If you need to stop..."
"We stop."
"If you don't remember something..."
"Tell me."
"I'd rather hear 'I don't know' than a guess."
Eldred managed a faint smile.
"I'll do my best."
Norah opened her notebook.
"Let's start at the beginning."
"When did the Siege of Curgarden begin?"
"Just after the harvest."
"...and why?"
"The tax collectors."
He sighed.
"The Aetherians took more of our crop than they were
entitled to."
"People argued."
"Then they fought."
"The gates closed."
"The Siege began."
"Were you surprised?"
"No."
He shook his head.
"Curgarden had been besieged before."
"We expected another one someday."
"So we'd prepared."
Norah looked up.
"Prepared how?"
"We stored grain."
"Dried meat."
"Medical supplies."
"I worked inventory."
"I knew exactly how much we had."
He smiled sadly.
"We thought we could outlast them."
"Winter was coming."
"We figured they'd leave before the snow became too
much."
"They needed us."
"Curgarden produced food."
"Aetheria couldn't afford to keep us surrounded
forever."
"...but they did."
His expression darkened.
"Winter ended."
"The growing season started."
"...and they were still there."
"What happened inside the city?"
"People became desperate."
"There wasn't starvation yet..."
"...but everyone knew what would happen if we couldn't
plant."
Silence lingered.
"Who sent you to find help?"
"Forman."
Norah wrote the name.
"He gave me a bag of gold."
"Told me to escape."
"Told me to find anyone willing to mediate."
"How did you escape?"
A faint smile crossed Eldred's face.
"I stole an Aetherian gallimimus."
"You stole one?"
"From a sleeping soldier."
Norah couldn't help smiling.
"I imagine he wasn't pleased."
"I never found out."
The smile disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.
"I eventually reached Daral Lake."
"I met the Blue Shield."
"They believed me."
"They agreed to come."
He looked down.
"I thought everything was finally going to get
better."
"It didn't."
"No."
"It didn't."
Norah turned the page.
"What happened when you returned to Aetheria?"
"We were arrested."
"The Blue Shield for harboring me."
"Me..."
"...for escaping."
"Were you imprisoned with them?"
"No."
"I never saw them again."
"They took me somewhere else."
He closed his eyes.
"My memory has gaps."
"I remember beatings."
"I remember never knowing when I was allowed to
sleep."
"Sometimes they wouldn't feed me."
"Sometimes they would..."
"...just enough to keep me alive."
His breathing slowed.
"I thought I was going to die there."
Norah quietly let him compose himself.
"Then what changed?"
"There was shouting."
"Explosions."
"People running."
"The prison doors opened."
"Who opened them?"
"Curgarden soldiers."
"They were fighting through the city."
"They freed everyone they could."
"What happened then?"
"We went toward the palace."
He frowned.
"Everything after that..."
"...it's a blur."
"I remember fighting everywhere."
"Curgarden soldiers fighting Aetherian soldiers."
"Aetherian soldiers fighting each other."
"The Royal Guard."
"Civilians."
"It felt like the whole city had gone mad."
He rubbed his forehead.
"I wasn't paying attention."
"I was just trying to stay alive."
"There was a moment..."
"...when it all stopped."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know."
"It was just..."
"...quiet."
"I found Forman."
"The others had made camp in a public square."
His voice became noticeably softer.
"Princess Elara was already there."
Norah remained silent.
"They'd chained her."
"They were..."
He couldn't finish.
"I couldn't watch."
"So I walked away."
"How long?"
"I don't know."
"A few hours."
"It was dark when I came back."
"...and what did you find?"
"They were asleep."
"Most of them."
"She was alone."
"I walked over."
"I asked her how she was doing."
He swallowed.
"I know who she was."
"I knew she was King Havin's daughter."
"...but..."
He looked toward the window.
"...that's not who I saw."
"I saw a frightened young woman."
"A young woman who hadn't deserved any of what had
happened."
"I apologized."
"For all of it."
"I told her I wished none of it had happened."
He paused.
"She started crying."
"I asked if I could hug her."
"She nodded."
"I held her."
"When I tried to let go..."
"...she asked me not to."
"So I didn't."
His voice softened into something almost wistful.
"We talked."
"She helped calm me down."
"I think..."
He laughed quietly.
"...I was more nervous than she was."
"She kept reassuring me."
"Telling me everything was alright."
"I'd never..."
He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.
"I'd never been with anyone before."
"She knew."
"...and she was patient...and accommodating."
A long silence followed.
"I fell in love with her."
"So did she."
"When it was over..."
"...neither of us wanted to let go."
"She asked me to find the keys."
"She wanted us to run."
"What happened instead?"
"They woke up."
"They tried pulling me away from her."
"I wouldn't let go."
"I remember Forman shouting."
"I remember hearing..."
He frowned.
"...a knife being drawn."
"Then the Blue Shield arrived."
"Everything exploded into fighting again."
"What did you do?"
"I held onto Elara."
"I couldn't fight."
"I wasn't leaving her."
"When did you finally let go?"
"After it was over."
"The Peace drone arrived."
"The fighting had stopped."
"I realized..."
He smiled sadly.
"...I didn't have the strength left."
"She told me it was alright."
"She said the worst was over."
"So..."
"...I let go."
He was quiet for several seconds.
"Then your officers handcuffed me."
"I didn't understand."
"I still don't."
He looked directly at Norah.
"I didn't hurt her."
"I never wanted to hurt her."
"I know how strange it looked."
"I know she was still chained."
"...but it wasn't like that."
Norah closed her notebook.
"I believe that you believe what you're telling
me."
She let the words settle.
"When Peace arrived, all we saw was a crime
scene."
"There were bodies."
"There were prisoners."
"There were armed men."
"...and there was a young man embracing a woman who had
been chained in a public square."
Eldred lowered his eyes.
"...I suppose that makes sense."
"It doesn't mean we thought you were guilty."
"It meant we didn't know who anyone was."
She leaned forward.
"I've now spoken to both you and Princess Elara."
"Your accounts agree."
"Not only on the important facts..."
"...but on the little details that people rarely
invent."
Eldred looked up hopefully.
"So..."
"You believe me?"
Norah smiled gently.
"Personally?"
"Yes."
"I believe you're as much a victim of this tragedy as
Princess Elara."
A flicker of relief crossed his face.
"...but," she continued, "whether criminal
charges are laid isn't my decision."
"That's Responsibility's."
"My job is to collect the truth."
"Their job is to determine what the law requires."
Eldred nodded slowly.
"Do you think..."
He hesitated.
"...they'll think I'm a monster?"
Norah didn't answer immediately.
Then she shook her head.
"No."
"After everything I've heard..."
"I think they'll see a young man who chose compassion
when everyone around him chose hate."
For the first time since she had entered the room...
Eldred smiled.
A genuine one.
The communal hall was alive again.
Children darted between the long wooden tables.
Someone was laughing near the kitchen.
The smell of fresh bread drifted through the room while
several members of the Order argued good-naturedly over a game of cards.
For the first time in weeks...
Daral Lake felt like itself again.
Well...
Almost.
Semin still walked with a cane.
The physicians had assured everyone it would only be
temporary, but each uneven step served as a quiet reminder of what had happened
in Aetheria.
As Zasaramel entered the hall, conversations stopped for
only a moment.
Then smiles spread across the room.
"He's back."
"Welcome home."
"You took long enough."
Azamat immediately crossed the room and embraced him.
"You survived."
"So did you."
"Barely."
"You were barely scratched."
"I was emotionally scratched."
Ravi laughed.
"You'll recover."
"I hope not."
Rahim shook his head.
"I was wondering how long it would take before you
started exaggerating."
Across the room, Arel-Sin practically ran toward his father.
He threw his arms around Zas without saying a word.
Zas hugged him tightly.
Longer than usual.
"I'm home."
"I know."
"I missed you."
"I missed you too."
When they finally stepped apart, Arel-Sin smiled.
It was the kind of smile that made the long journey
worthwhile.
Later that afternoon, the hall had quieted.
Many had returned to their daily work.
Others rested after lunch.
Zas sat alone near one of the windows, staring out toward
Daral Lake.
He barely noticed the footsteps behind him.
Eve quietly wrapped her arms around him.
For several seconds...
Neither of them spoke.
Then she frowned slightly.
"You're home..."
"...but you aren't."
Zas looked down.
"No."
She moved around and sat beside him.
"What happened?"
He was silent for a long time.
Finally...
"I think..."
He searched for the words.
"...for the first time in my life..."
"...I'm beginning to question whether I'm still meant
for this life."
Eve listened without interrupting.
"Every day we were in Aetheria..."
"I wondered whether I would ever see Joanna
again."
He swallowed.
"Or Arel-Sin."
"Or Phoebe."
"Or Armintie."
"...or you."
His voice became quieter.
"I've accepted the dangers of being a Blue Shield for
so long that I stopped thinking about what they really meant."
"We're taught from childhood."
"A mountain patrol is dangerous."
"One day..."
"...you might not come home."
"We all know that."
He looked toward the mountains beyond the lake.
"I always believed that was enough."
"That understanding it meant we were prepared for
it."
His expression grew distant.
"When Karim died..."
"I was sad."
"We all were."
"...but after a time..."
"...we told ourselves it was part of the life we'd
chosen."
"That everyone understood the risk."
He looked down at his hands.
"I never questioned that."
Another silence settled between them.
"Then Joanna came into my life."
A faint smile crossed his face.
"She isn't like us."
"She didn't grow up believing death on patrol was
simply something that happened."
"Every time we spoke..."
"...her voice lit up."
"Every single time."
He laughed quietly.
"It didn't matter whether we'd spoken six hours
earlier."
"She was always happy to hear me."
His smile faded.
"...and while I was in Aetheria..."
"...I realized something."
"I've always acted as if there would be another
time."
"Another conversation."
"Another meal."
"Another patrol."
"Another goodbye."
He shook his head slowly.
"As if I would always come back."
His voice dropped.
"As if everyone else would simply understand if I
didn't."
He exhaled.
"I told myself that everyone knows this job is
dangerous."
"That we all accept it."
"...but that's not the same as being ready for
it."
He looked out toward the lake again.
"...and it's not the same as being okay with it."
Another pause.
"If I had died there..."
"It wouldn't have just been another patrol gone
wrong."
"It would have shattered her."
He swallowed.
"...and I never really let myself think about that
before."
Eve reached over and rested a hand on his shoulder.
"You didn't make Joanna worry."
Zas looked at her.
"Joanna worried because she loves you."
"That's who she is."
"If the situation had been reversed..."
"...you would have worried just as much."
Zas considered that.
She wasn't wrong.
"I know."
He sighed.
"...but something has changed."
"I realized..."
He hesitated.
"...I've been taking things for granted."
"Not just people..."
"...but time."
"I assumed there would always be more of it."
His voice became almost a whisper.
"There might not be."
Eve nodded slowly.
"No."
"There might not."
The hall remained peaceful around them.
Children laughed somewhere in the distance.
Someone called for more bread.
Life continued.
Eve watched it all for a moment before speaking again.
"I can't tell you whether you should remain with the
Blue Shield."
"Only you can answer that."
"...and I certainly won't tell one of our greatest
warriors to leave."
She smiled gently.
"...but..."
"...I do think you and Joanna need to have a
conversation."
"A real one."
Zas looked at her.
"You've reached the point where your future isn't only
yours anymore."
"It's hers too."
"...and yours together."
"You've built something far bigger than either of you
expected."
"You're not deciding only where you belong."
"You're deciding where your family belongs."
She squeezed his shoulder.
"You don't have to decide today."
"...but you shouldn't decide alone."
Zas looked out across Daral Lake once more.
The mountains were as beautiful as they had always been.
The lake shimmered in the afternoon sun.
It was home.
It always would be.
For the first time...
He wondered whether home alone was enough.
...and for the first time in many years...
He didn't know the answer.
Chronicle 24: The Conversation
The phone rang twice.
On the third ring, the screen came alive.
Joanna appeared.
The moment she saw him...
Her entire face lit up.
There it was again.
That smile.
The one that seemed to begin in her eyes before spreading
across the rest of her face.
It happened every single time.
No matter how many calls they had shared...
No matter how recently they had spoken...
She always looked genuinely happy simply to see him.
"Hi."
"Hi."
For a few moments, neither of them said much.
They simply smiled at one another.
Zas never understood how someone could look so happy just
because he had answered the phone.
He wasn't sure he ever would.
"...You look better," Joanna finally said.
"So do you."
"I've been sleeping."
"I've noticed."
She laughed.
"I think I've slept enough for both of us."
The laughter faded naturally.
Zas' expression changed.
Joanna noticed immediately.
"...What's wrong?"
He took a slow breath.
"I wish we were having this conversation in
person."
Her smile disappeared.
"So do I."
He looked at her through the screen.
"I'm not sure..."
He searched for the words.
"...I'm not sure the arrangement can work any
longer."
Silence.
Joanna stared at him.
For one awful second...
She stopped breathing.
"...Are you breaking up with me?"
The question struck him like a punch.
"What?"
"Are you breaking up with me?"
"No."
The answer came instantly.
"No."
"Joanna..."
"I don't want to break up with you."
She let out a shaky breath.
Relief washed over her face.
"So that's not what this is?"
"No."
He hesitated.
"...but..."
"...the way you asked me that..."
He studied her expression.
"You've thought about it."
Joanna closed her eyes.
"...Yes."
The admission barely escaped her lips.
"I hate that I have."
"...but I did."
Neither of them spoke for several seconds.
"When I couldn't reach you..."
"When nobody knew what was happening..."
"I kept looking at my phone."
She gave a small, embarrassed laugh.
"I'd tell myself not to."
"...then I'd look again."
"I kept hoping it would ring."
"Hoping I'd finally hear your voice."
Her eyes began to glisten.
"I don't think I've ever been that frightened."
She shook her head.
"I kept wondering..."
"'What if this is it?'"
"'What if I never get to hear him laugh again?'"
"'What if the last thing I ever said to him wasn't
enough?'"
Her voice cracked.
"I wasn't sure how much longer I could carry
that."
She looked away for a moment.
"The weight of it..."
"...was becoming too much."
Zas listened quietly.
Every word settled heavily inside him.
"I hated knowing you were out there."
"...and I couldn't do anything."
"I couldn't help."
"I couldn't protect you."
"I couldn't even tell whether you were alive."
Another silence.
"Then..."
She smiled sadly.
"I started thinking about you."
"What you would do if our positions were
reversed."
"I realized..."
"...you never gave up on me."
"You never stopped believing I could become a better
wrestler."
"You never stopped believing we'd find a way to make
the arrangement with Pheoeb and Armintie work."
"You never gave up on us."
She met his eyes again.
"So I decided..."
"...I wasn't going to give up on you either."
"No matter how scared I was."
"No matter how much it hurt."
"I'm still not giving up."
The words landed with a force she hadn't intended.
Zas felt his throat tighten.
"I won't give up on you either."
He smiled softly.
"Or on us."
She smiled back.
"I know."
"I just..."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't know what 'not giving up' is supposed to look
like."
"I hate that I put you through all of that."
"I don't ever want you carrying that weight
again."
Joanna shook her head.
"I don't want you giving up your life because of
me."
Almost before she had finished speaking, Zas answered.
"...and I don't want you giving up yours because of
me."
She laughed quietly.
"We're making this difficult."
"We are."
She leaned back in her chair.
"The hard part..."
"...is that one day..."
"...someone probably will have to."
Zas nodded.
"I know."
"If we're going to live together."
"If we're going to raise a family together."
"If we're going to grow old together..."
"...Daral Lake and Cleveland are very far apart."
"They are."
Neither of them argued.
Neither pretended there was an easy solution.
Finally Zas spoke.
"I'm not ready to decide today."
"No."
"Neither am I."
She smiled gently.
"...and I don't think we have to."
"We've both been through too much."
"We don't have to solve the rest of our lives this
week."
He laughed quietly.
"That sounds like something you'd tell me."
"I probably have."
They both smiled.
Joanna reached toward the screen.
Her fingertips rested lightly against the image of his face.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
"We'll figure it out."
"Together."
He nodded.
"Together."
The future remained uncertain.
The distance between them had not changed.
The questions were still there.
...but neither of them was carrying those questions alone
anymore.
For now...
That was enough.
Chronicle 24: Responsibility
The office overlooked the skyline.
It was quiet.
Almost too quiet.
Olivia Stabler sat behind her desk, absentmindedly turning
the wedding band that still rested on her finger.
It had been years.
She still wore it.
Not because she expected her husband to walk through the
door again.
She knew he wouldn't.
...but taking it off somehow felt more permanent than losing
him had.
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Come in."
The door opened.
Commanding Officer Norah Anam stepped inside carrying a
thick case file.
"Morning."
"Morning."
Olivia gestured toward the chair opposite her desk.
"How are they?"
Norah sat.
"Alive."
She smiled faintly.
"Which is more than either of them expected."
Olivia nodded.
"How did the interviews go?"
"I've finished the initial hospital interviews with
Princess Elara and Eldred."
She deliberately emphasized the word.
"Initial."
Olivia raised an eyebrow.
"You think you'll need to speak with them again."
"I'm almost certain of it."
"They're both still recovering."
"Physically."
"Mentally."
"There are gaps."
"Trauma."
"Exhaustion."
"I don't think either of them has told me
everything."
She rested the file on Olivia's desk.
"...but they've told us enough to move the
investigation forward."
Olivia opened the folder.
"What stands out?"
Norah answered immediately.
"Eldred."
Olivia looked up.
"What about him?"
"He shouldn't be charged."
Olivia didn't respond right away.
Instead she leaned back in her chair.
"That's a fairly definitive opinion."
"It is."
"You believe he's innocent?"
"I believe he's another victim."
Olivia folded her hands.
"Convince me."
Norah had expected the question.
"His statement and Princess Elara's statement
independently corroborate one another."
"They agree on every significant event."
"They even agree on small details."
"The kind of details people don't usually invent."
Olivia nodded.
"The relationship."
"Yes."
"The relationship."
She closed the file.
"Play devil's advocate with me for a moment."
"I'm sure Responsibility eventually will."
Norah smiled faintly.
"Go ahead."
Olivia spoke carefully.
"When Peace officers arrived..."
"They found a woman who had been chained in a public
square."
"Surrounded by bodies."
"Surrounded by evidence of repeated sexual
assaults."
"...and they found Eldred embracing her."
She held Norah's gaze.
"The optics are terrible."
"They are."
Olivia continued.
"Consent is the issue."
"How can someone who is literally chained against her
will meaningfully consent to anything?"
The room fell quiet.
Norah had already wrestled with the question herself.
"It looks strange."
"It looks unbelievable."
"I understand why people will ask that."
She leaned forward.
"...but legality isn't determined by appearances."
"It's determined by facts."
Olivia listened.
"Both Eldred and Princess Elara independently state
there was no coercion."
"No threats."
"No force."
"No pressure."
"They both say Princess Elara initiated the
relationship."
"They both say she enthusiastically welcomed it."
"They both describe it as an act of comfort."
"An act of love."
"Not another assault."
She paused.
"The fact that other Curgarden soldiers assaulted
Princess Elara does not automatically make Eldred one of them."
"We don't convict by association."
"We convict individuals for their own actions."
Olivia remained thoughtful.
"So your position is..."
"My position is that the evidence shows Eldred did not
commit a sexual offence."
She hesitated.
"I believe he may have saved Princess Elara's
life."
Silence settled between them.
Finally Olivia nodded once.
"I think you're right."
Norah relaxed slightly.
"...but."
Norah smiled.
"I knew there'd be a 'but.'"
Olivia allowed herself the smallest smile.
"Keep digging."
Norah's expression became serious again.
"I intend to."
"I want every witness I can find."
"Especially from the Curgarden side."
Olivia nodded.
"If we're going to prosecute Forman..."
"...we're going to need more than two victims."
"We need corroboration."
"We need participants."
"We need people who were there."
She closed the file again.
"The defence will argue chaos."
"They'll argue unreliable memories."
"They'll argue trauma."
"They'll argue politics."
"I want enough evidence that those arguments collapse
under their own weight."
Norah nodded.
"I'm already identifying surviving soldiers."
Olivia stood and walked toward the window.
"The Curgarden diaspora won't like this."
"No."
"They'll see Forman in prison clothing."
"They'll remember him as the man who stood up to King
Havin."
"They won't want to hear that their hero committed
atrocities after the victory."
"No."
"They won't."
Olivia folded her arms.
"The hardest cases are never the ones with obvious
villains."
"They're the ones where yesterday's hero becomes
today's defendant."
She was quiet for a moment.
"I hope..."
She stared out over the city.
"...that among those soldiers..."
"...there are still a few people human enough to tell
the truth."
Norah stood.
"I hope so too."
"Because if there are..."
"We'll bury Forman in court."
Olivia looked back at her.
"...and if there aren't..."
She glanced down at the thick file resting on her desk.
"It’ll be an uphill battle."
Responsibility had begun.
The crowd applauded as Sugar Cane and Cotton Candy made
their entrance.
It wasn't television.
Just another WFE house show.
No cameras.
No millions watching.
Just a few thousand fans looking for a good night of
wrestling.
Backstage, Vince stood beside Triple X with his arms folded.
Across the ring stood Indulgence, one of the
Academy's newest tag teams.
"They've improved," Triple X observed.
"They have," Vince agreed.
"I like their look."
"They're starting to understand ring psychology."
Triple X nodded.
"They're getting close."
"We'll know more after tonight."
The bell rang.
The match began.
For fifteen minutes, everything went according to plan.
The Sweet Roses looked every bit like veterans.
Indulgence kept pace surprisingly well.
Their timing was crisp.
Their reactions were natural.
Even Vince found himself nodding occasionally.
"They're ready."
Triple X smiled.
"I was thinking the same thing."
Then...
Everything changed.
One mistimed landing.
One awkward angle.
Joanna's foot planted.
Her knee didn't.
A sharp cry echoed through the arena.
The referee immediately threw up the "X."
The match stopped.
Carly was beside Joanna almost instantly.
"You alright?"
Joanna shook her head.
"I..."
She tried to stand.
The pain sent her immediately back to the mat. The tears
fell soon afterward.
Medical staff rushed to the ring.
Within minutes...
A stretcher was brought out.
The audience applauded as Joanna gave a small wave while
being carried backstage.
The trainers wheeled Joanna through the curtain.
Vince was already waiting.
"What happened?"
"The knee," one trainer replied.
"We don't know how bad."
"We're taking her to the hospital."
"She'll stay overnight."
"We want imaging done."
Joanna looked up.
"I'm sorry."
Vince's expression softened for only a second.
"Don't apologize."
"Just get better."
The stretcher disappeared down the hallway.
The moment it rounded the corner...
Vince turned.
His face hardened.
Indulgence had been standing several metres away.
Neither woman had moved.
"You."
The word alone made both wrestlers tense.
"What the heck was that?"
Neither answered immediately.
"We..."
"It was an accident," one finally managed.
"An accident?"
Vince stepped closer.
"You broke my golden goose!"
"I trusted you with my biggest star!"
"I put her in the ring with you!"
"...and now she's heading to a hospital!"
Both women looked devastated.
"We're sorry."
"We never meant-"
"I don't care what you meant!"
The hallway fell silent. The Indulgence wrestlers were already
crying.
Then another voice cut through it.
"They didn't do anything wrong."
Carly stepped between Vince and the two younger wrestlers.
Triple X arrived beside her.
"I watched it," he said calmly.
"So did I," Carly added.
"It was nobody's fault."
Triple X nodded.
"Freak accident."
"It happens."
Vince looked from Triple X...
...to Carly...
...to the terrified faces of Indulgence.
His anger slowly drained away.
He rubbed his forehead.
Finally...
He sighed.
"I'm sorry."
Neither woman spoke.
"I lost my temper."
"You didn't do anything wrong."
"It was an accident."
He looked each of them in the eye.
"I'm sorry."
The two wrestlers quietly nodded.
"Thank you, sir."
They walked away.
Only after they had disappeared down the corridor did Vince
speak again.
"I still don't know if I trust them."
Triple X folded his arms.
"You don't trust accidents."
"No."
"I don't."
"They're unpredictable."
"They cost money."
"They wreck plans."
Carly smiled faintly.
"You can't fire bad luck."
"No."
Vince looked toward the hallway where Joanna had been taken.
"...Unfortunately."
He exhaled.
"So."
Triple X already knew what was coming.
"We rewrite."
"We rewrite."
"The television tapings."
"The house shows."
"The pay-per-view."
"Everything."
Carly nodded.
"It could've been much worse."
Vince looked at the production board already hanging on the
wall.
"It could."
He picked up a marker.
"…but I still hate annoyances."
He uncapped it.
"...especially the ones nobody meant to cause."
Without another word...
He began rewriting the future.
Joanna's hospital room was beginning to run out of space.
Flowers covered the windowsill.
Cards had been tucked beneath vases, leaned against water
pitchers and taped wherever the nurses would allow.
Several gift bags crowded the small table beside her bed.
Reika had left a large arrangement of flowers with a
handwritten note.
Triple X had visited alongside Carly, both of them remaining
until the doctors assured them there was no reason to expect a serious injury.
Ziggy Starman arrived later carrying an assortment of
balloons.
One was shaped like a star.
Another read:
GET WELL SOON, SUPERSTAR!
A third simply displayed an enormous smiling face wearing
sunglasses.
Joanna stared at it.
"Why does that one have sunglasses?"
Ziggy shrugged.
"It knows you're going to be fine."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"It knows more than we do."
By the time Ziggy left, Phoebe and Armintie had claimed the
two chairs closest to Joanna's bed.
Phoebe sat forward with her hands clasped tightly in her
lap.
Armintie tried to look relaxed.
She wasn't doing a particularly convincing job.
Joanna looked around the room.
At the flowers.
The balloons.
The gifts.
The cards.
The two girls sitting beside her.
She felt overwhelmed.
Not by the injury.
By how many people cared.
A physician entered carrying the results of her examination.
Joanna immediately straightened.
"So?"
The physician smiled.
"Good news."
Phoebe released a breath she had apparently been holding.
"There is no major structural damage."
"No torn ligament."
"No fracture."
"You suffered a sprain and some inflammation, but
nothing that should cause lasting problems."
Joanna smiled.
"How long?"
"A few weeks."
"You'll need rest."
"Rehabilitation."
"…and you will not return to the ring until the medical
team clears you."
Joanna nodded obediently.
"Of course."
The physician gave her a knowing look.
"I mean it."
"So do I."
Armintie raised an eyebrow.
The physician noticed.
"Should I trust her?"
"No," Armintie replied.
"Absolutely not," Phoebe added.
Joanna looked offended.
"I am extremely responsible."
Neither girl said anything.
Their expressions said enough.
The physician laughed.
"You'll stay overnight for observation."
"If everything remains stable, you can go home
tomorrow."
"Thank you."
Once the physician left, Joanna sank back against her
pillows.
"A few weeks."
She smiled.
"That's nothing."
Phoebe nodded.
"...Nothing."
Something in her voice made Joanna look at her.
Phoebe smiled, but the fear had not completely left her
face.
Armintie was looking away.
Joanna noticed that too.
Before she could say anything, her phone vibrated on the
table.
She reached for it.
Her smile vanished.
Fifteen missed calls.
All from Zas.
"Oh."
Phoebe leaned closer.
"Who is it?"
"Your father."
Armintie looked at the screen.
"In an hour?"
Joanna immediately called him.
The connection barely had time to establish before Zas
answered.
His face appeared on the screen.
"Joanna?"
"I'm here."
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine."
His expression did not change.
"What happened?"
"It was a freak accident."
"Who caused it?"
"No one."
"Did someone make a mistake?"
"No."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes."
She smiled reassuringly.
"Zas, don't worry."
His jaw tightened.
"Azamat saw the reports."
"He told me you had been taken from the arena on a
stretcher."
Joanna glanced down.
"He also told me you didn't die."
Despite everything, she laughed.
"That sounds like Azamat."
"It did not help."
Zas stared at her through the screen.
"I did not know how badly you were injured."
"I did not know if you could walk."
"I did not know if you had struck your head."
"I did not know anything."
Joanna's smile faded.
"The doctors say I'll fully recover."
"I'll be back in a few weeks."
Zas exhaled.
Some of the tension left his shoulders.
"What happened?"
Joanna began explaining.
"The landing went wrong."
"Nobody did anything reckless."
"Nobody was careless."
"These things happen."
She paused.
The words sounded familiar.
Too familiar.
"It's part of wrestling."
She stopped.
Zas waited.
Joanna looked down at the blanket covering her legs.
She had heard those words before.
Not those exact words...
…but close enough.
Danger was part of mountain life.
Everyone understood the risks.
These things happened.
People recovered.
People came home.
Until they didn't.
She had been about to tell Zas that he shouldn't be afraid
because she had already decided everything would be alright.
As though he should somehow know that.
As though fear only became reasonable after the worst had
already happened.
"...Oh."
Zas frowned.
"What?"
Joanna looked back at him.
"I understand."
"Understand what?"
"What I did to you."
He said nothing.
"When you were in Aetheria..."
"You kept telling me that danger was part of your
life."
"That you knew what you were doing."
"That everyone accepted the risks."
She glanced at the hospital room around her.
"I hated hearing that."
"It made me feel like my fear didn't matter."
She swallowed.
"...and I was about to do the same thing to you."
"Joanna-"
"I was."
"I was going to tell you this was just part of
wrestling."
"That injuries happen."
"That you shouldn't worry because I'll be fine."
She shook her head.
"…but you didn't know that."
"All Azamat told you was that I was carried out on a
stretcher."
"You didn't know whether I was fine."
"You couldn't."
Her voice softened.
"I'm sorry."
Zas lowered his eyes.
"You don't need to apologize."
"I think I do."
For several moments, neither spoke.
Then Zas looked at the two girls behind her.
Phoebe offered him a small wave.
Armintie did the same.
They both looked exhausted.
Zas noticed.
"So they saw it?"
"No."
"They came after."
Joanna glanced toward them.
"…but they saw me here."
She looked back at Zas.
"And I saw their faces."
Phoebe tried to smile again.
Joanna reached over and took her hand.
"I had a thought."
"What thought?"
Joanna hesitated.
"What if something happens to me?"
"What if one day it's worse than this?"
"What if I can't wrestle anymore?"
"...or what if I can't take care of them?"
Phoebe squeezed her hand.
"Jo-"
"I know."
Joanna gave her a reassuring smile.
"I know that's fear talking."
She looked back toward the phone.
"…but it still said something."
Zas nodded slowly.
"I nearly told you to stop wrestling."
Joanna blinked.
"You did?"
"I wanted to."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because I realized it was fear talking."
A faint smile crossed Joanna's face.
"We're learning."
"Slowly."
"Very slowly."
They shared a quiet laugh.
Then the silence returned.
Not uncomfortable.
Just honest.
Their earlier conversation had ended with an agreement that
they did not need to decide anything immediately.
That they had time.
Now both of them understood that time could not be taken
entirely for granted.
Joanna looked toward Phoebe and Armintie.
Then back at Zas.
"I don't think we can wait forever to talk about our
future."
"No."
"We don't have to decide tonight."
"No."
"…but maybe..."
She searched for the words.
"...sooner rather than later."
Zas nodded.
"I think so."
Joanna leaned back against the pillows.
Neither of them knew what the answer would be.
Daral Lake was still Zas' home.
Wrestling was still Joanna's life.
Neither wanted to demand that the other abandon what had
shaped them.
…but their choices no longer belonged only to themselves.
There were children watching them.
People depending on them.
A family stretched across half the world.
Joanna smiled softly.
"I love you."
Zas' expression finally relaxed.
"I love you too."
"I'm alright."
"I know that now."
Joanna nodded.
That distinction mattered.
For the first time, both of them fully understood the other
side of the phone.
…and the conversation they had postponed...
Could not remain postponed forever.
The palace no longer looked like a palace.
Entire walls had collapsed inward.
The grand entrance was little more than broken columns and
scorched stone.
Every few metres, fluorescent markers still identified
places where evidence had been recovered.
Most of the bodies had been removed.
The blood had not.
Commanding Officer Pascal Yves crouched beside a stain that
had long since dried into the stone.
Several metres behind him, Commanding Officer Zeke Coleman
approached carrying a paper tray.
"You hungry?"
Pascal looked up.
"Is that..."
"A hot dog."
"In a war zone?"
Coleman shrugged.
"A guy's running a cart two streets over."
Pascal blinked.
"Someone decided this was the ideal place to restart a
business?"
"They said investigators have to eat too."
Coleman took another bite.
"I'm grateful."
Pascal shook his head.
"I don't know whether to admire the entrepreneurial
spirit..."
"...or question the judgment."
Coleman smiled.
"I admire the mustard."
Pascal laughed despite himself before returning to the
evidence.
"This area's already been processed."
"Three times."
"I know."
Coleman looked around.
"But sometimes you don't understand a place until you
stand where the people stood."
Pascal nodded.
He understood exactly what Coleman meant.
The forensic teams had collected fingerprints.
Blood samples.
DNA.
Fibres.
Ballistics.
Photographs.
Measurements.
Now came something different.
Reconstruction.
Understanding.
Coleman unfolded several crime-scene photographs.
One showed King Havin's body exactly as Peace officers had
first found it.
He stared at it for only a second before turning it face
down.
"I've seen some ugly things."
He sighed.
"...that one's difficult."
Pascal didn't argue.
Havin's body had been deliberately mutilated after death.
Not to conceal evidence.
To send a message.
"I've read Forman's interview three times."
Coleman took another bite.
"He insists Havin died defending the city."
"He says his men never murdered him."
Pascal remained focused on the bloodstains.
"Do you believe him?"
Coleman laughed once.
"No."
"Neither do I."
"They hated Havin."
"They blamed him for everything."
"They'd spent months listening to speeches about
justice."
"Revenge."
"Retribution."
"They were ideologically committed."
Pascal stood.
"If Havin survived the battle..."
"...I don't believe they simply let him walk
away."
The two men began following the sequence established by the
forensic maps.
A bloodstain near one collapsed hallway.
Another several metres farther.
Smears.
Interrupted droplets.
Drag marks.
Coleman crouched.
"See this?"
Pascal nodded.
"Passive bleeding."
"No signs of running."
"No arterial spray."
"So..."
"He wasn't fleeing."
They continued.
Another marker.
Another stain.
The pattern slowly emerged.
Pascal stopped.
"He wasn't moving under his own power."
Coleman looked toward the next marker.
"He was being dragged."
The trail eventually left the palace grounds altogether.
It continued across broken stone streets toward what had
once been one of Aetheris' largest public squares.
Most of the debris had already been cleared.
The square itself remained eerily empty.
Pascal slowly turned in a circle.
"This wasn't random."
"No."
Coleman unfolded another aerial photograph.
"They brought him here."
He compared it with the scene around them.
"Body found there."
He pointed toward the centre of the square.
"Blood pooling begins here."
Pascal looked down.
The forensic chalk markings had faded, but enough remained.
The autopsy photographs came next.
Bruising inconsistent with combat.
Additional injuries inflicted after incapacitation.
Numerous patterned abrasions.
Foreign material recovered from wounds.
Pascal quietly closed the folder.
"They humiliated him."
Coleman nodded grimly.
"In public."
The two men stood silently.
Around them, merchants had already begun reopening small
businesses.
Children occasionally wandered through nearby streets.
Life was returning.
Yet the square still felt wrong.
Pascal looked toward the surrounding buildings.
"Everyone could have seen this."
Coleman followed his gaze.
"Exactly."
Neither spoke for several moments.
Finally Pascal broke the silence.
"We don't have video."
"No."
"We don't have a witness yet."
"No."
"We're reconstructing."
Coleman nodded.
"…but reconstruction is evidence."
He gestured around the square.
"The bloodstain pattern."
"The drag marks."
"The body."
"The autopsy."
"The injuries."
"The location."
"The sequence."
"They all point the same direction."
Pascal looked once more toward the centre of the square.
"I think they brought him here alive."
Coleman slowly nodded.
"I think they made an example of him."
Another long silence.
Coleman carefully returned the photographs to their folder.
"When this goes to trial..."
"...people are going to argue we can't know exactly
what happened."
Pascal agreed.
"…and they'll be right."
"We can't know every second."
He looked down at the stone beneath his feet.
"…but we don't need every second."
"We need to know what the evidence proves."
Coleman folded his arms.
"What does it prove?"
Pascal answered without hesitation.
"King Havin did not simply die defending his
city."
He looked across the square one last time.
"He was captured."
"Dragged into public view."
"Humiliated."
"…and murdered."
Coleman nodded slowly.
"I'll sign that report."
"So will I."
The two investigators stood in silence as workers continued
rebuilding around them.
The city was beginning again.
…but the stones beneath their feet still remembered the end
of the old one.
The interview room was almost painfully ordinary.
Grey walls.
Grey table.
Grey chairs.
A camera quietly recorded from the corner.
Billings sat with his hands folded tightly together.
Across from him sat Claudio "Pooch" Pucci and
Investigator Elian Reyes- both Peace Officers who worked closely with
Responsibility.
Neither had opened the thick folder resting on the table.
Not yet.
Pooch smiled pleasantly.
"Good morning."
Billings nodded cautiously.
"I've already spoken to Peace."
"We know."
Elian offered a reassuring smile.
"We're with Responsibility as well."
"We're trying to understand what happened."
Billings relaxed slightly.
"I've already told everyone."
"Then this should be easy."
Pooch leaned back.
"Tell us about King Havin."
Billings barely hesitated.
"He died during the fighting."
"You saw it?"
"I saw enough."
"...and afterward?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean?"
"When everything settled down..."
"...someone found the body."
"The strange things..."
He shrugged.
"I figured civilians must've done that."
"You didn't see who."
"No."
"You don't know who."
"No."
Pooch nodded thoughtfully.
"I see."
He remained silent for several seconds.
Long enough for Billings to begin believing him.
Then Pooch quietly slid the thick folder across the table.
Billings looked at it.
"What is that?"
"Our reconstruction."
Billings frowned.
"Reconstruction?"
Pooch slowly opened the file.
Photographs.
Crime scene diagrams.
Autopsy reports.
Bloodstain analyses.
Maps.
He didn't push them toward Billings.
He simply looked at them.
Then back at Billings.
"You know..."
"I've been doing this for a long time."
"So has Elian."
"As Peace Officers, we've both heard thousands of
lies."
"We've even believed a few."
He tapped one photograph.
"...but lies have a habit of disagreeing with
evidence."
Billings swallowed.
Pooch's tone remained calm.
"King Havin didn't die where you say he died."
Silence.
"There isn't enough blood."
"The injuries don't match."
"The trail begins inside the palace..."
"...and ends in the public square."
Another photograph.
"He was dragged."
Another.
"He wasn't running."
Another.
"He wasn't fighting."
Another.
"The injuries to his body didn't occur during
combat."
He finally looked directly at Billings.
"So."
He folded his hands.
"Would you like to try again?"
Billings stared at the table.
"I..."
Pooch interrupted gently.
"Don't."
"Don't insult either of us."
"We're beyond that."
He leaned forward.
"I know you're lying."
"You know you're lying."
"The question isn't whether you lied."
"It's why."
Billings' breathing became noticeably faster.
Elian spoke softly.
"Billings."
"We're trying to understand."
"...but we can't do that if you keep protecting people
who wouldn't protect you."
Billings looked back and forth between them.
His composure finally broke.
"...We found him."
Neither investigator moved.
"He was alive."
The room became completely silent.
"He wasn't fighting."
"He wasn't resisting."
"He..."
Billings rubbed his face.
"...he barely spoke."
Pooch said nothing.
He simply listened.
"Forman walked over."
Billings' voice had become almost hollow.
"He looked at him..."
"...and started hitting him."
"No warning."
"No questions."
"He just..."
"...lost himself."
Billings closed his eyes.
"He kept saying..."
"'This is your fault.'"
"'You did this.'"
"'You starved our children.'"
"'You destroyed our homes.'"
"He wouldn't stop."
Elian quietly asked,
"What happened next?"
Billings' shoulders slumped.
"Forman told us to drag him."
"Where?"
"The square."
"The public square."
"Why?"
"So everyone could see."
"So everyone would know what happened to tyrants."
Pooch remained expressionless.
"What happened there?"
Billings didn't answer immediately.
When he finally spoke...
His voice barely carried across the table.
"Everybody took part."
Pooch asked the question anyway.
"Everybody?"
Billings nodded.
"...Everybody."
He looked at his own hands.
"Me too."
Silence.
"Why?"
Billings laughed bitterly.
"I wish I knew."
He shook his head repeatedly.
"No..."
"That's not true."
"I do know."
He wiped at his eyes.
"They kept saying..."
"'Remember your children.'"
"'Remember the harvest.'"
"'Remember your wife couldn't eat.'"
"'Remember who caused all of this.'"
"They kept saying he deserved it."
"They kept saying justice had finally come."
He swallowed hard.
"I believed them."
"For a little while..."
"...I believed every word."
His voice cracked.
"I don't know what came over me."
"I wasn't thinking."
"I was..."
"...consumed by hate."
The room remained quiet.
Billings finally looked up.
"I'm not a monster."
His voice pleaded rather than argued.
"I'm not."
"I had one moment."
"One horrible..."
"...awful moment."
"I hate myself for it."
"I hate that I joined them."
"I hate that I didn't stop them."
"I hate..."
He buried his face in his hands.
"...what I became."
Pooch waited until Billings had composed himself.
Then he spoke gently.
"People can do terrible things."
"Especially when surrounded by other people doing
terrible things."
Billings nodded weakly.
Elian leaned forward.
"We can't promise you anything."
Billings looked up.
"Charging decisions belong to the Attorney
General."
"We don't make those decisions."
"...but..."
He let the word linger.
"If you're willing to testify."
"If you're willing to tell the truth."
"If you're willing to testify against Forman and anyone
else responsible..."
"...Olivia may decide your cooperation deserves
consideration."
Billings stared at them.
"You mean..."
"...lesser charges?"
"We're making no promises."
"...but truthful cooperation matters."
Billings looked down once more.
When he finally answered...
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"I can live with that."
Pooch slowly closed the file.
Internally, he and Elian already knew.
They had come looking for the first crack in Forman's wall.
They had just found it.
...and once one stone gave way...
The rest often followed.
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