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Trial by Flame (Pt-1)

  A fragrant autumnal breeze carried arrowroot leaves through Kardok. The city seemed to recoil at the unfamiliar scents of the countryside intruding on their lives. Amelia watched as the leaves tumbled past the street vendors. Not too long ago, she had trod those streets, not as an intruder, but as their peacekeeper. The arrogant nobles who strutted around with their chins held high didn't even notice the life beneath their upturned noses.

  Those urchins and other less than savory people who lurked in the shadows were just as much a part of this city as the odd man or woman with burnished armor bearing the flame of Allumbra. Not even the nobles dared stand in the way of those who wore the armor of a church knight, armor that Amelia itched to get back into. As the knights and nobles passed, crowds surged in behind them. The streets abhorred a vacuum.

  She knew, as everyone in the Citadel of Flame knew, that the streets had a voice and a will of their own. Only by listening to them could disasters be averted. Disasters like what happened a month ago with the Duchess's assassination.

  The streets still felt wrong, like a cornered and injured hound waiting before it struck.

  Above the streets, above the half tattered festival streamers, the eyes of the flame flit about their business. Each searching for ill favored criminals, any that could illuminate what happened that day the streets dripped with blood. No stone would be left unsearched. Back in the Capital, not even the emperor's palace was being spared the gaze of justice.

  Amelia looked down from the Citadel, the sound of gently chanted hymns echoing throughout its structure. It towered higher than even the Duchess's manor, the area surrounding it had been spared the worst of the slaughter. Even the most pitiful knave knew better than to risk the ire of the church. Those foolish enough to cross the Flame wardens would end up in chains right where Amelia was now. Amelia was spared the chains due to her station, but the two guards in gilded armor kept eying her suspiciously. Allumbra's flame! They shifted their grips on their swords if she so much as coughed! From their wariness, you'd think she was the second coming of Ambar’dul! They could have at least allowed her morning to start a tad bit more pleasantly, couldn't they? At least she got to skip sparring practice, the Knights had started to train as if they were possessed. They sparred harder and faster as if they were preparing for something. Amelia still hadn't recovered from last week's bruises. At least she gave as good as she got, she thought with a smirk.

  The guards shifted their hands on their swords again.

  She sighed, if only she could know what they were saying about her in the court, or even what she was accused of! It couldn't be as terrible as this damned suspense. The waiting room was ornate, though why they chose to furnish it with ladder ribbed chairs was beyond her. Whoever thought that a chair that gives as many bruises as sparring was a good idea should be the one waiting for their arraignment, not her!

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  The embossed double door slipped open.

  “It is time, come in” the bailiff said softly.

  The air inside the court was soft, like a family reunion. In a way, the Order of the Flame was a kind of family. Today though had the atmosphere of the worst kind of family gatherings.

  The high ceiling room that normally would be packed with knights and aspirants in the balconies today was empty but for three elders waiting for her to take her place at the altar.

  Amelia looked back, here there was nowhere to hide or shrink, but what was she thinking! She was a knight like her father before her! Amelia straightened her shoulders and walked tall to the altar. Whatever grim reason she was called, at least she wouldn't be called to be a sacrifice on it. She hoped. They didn't do that anymore, did they? She was starting to regret sleeping through her history classes.

  It'd be fine, almost everyone liked her, it couldn't be too serious.

  “Amelia Bryteswann, you are here accused of treason.” Tyrson announced.

  Ok, it's serious. Tyrson was one of the few people that didn't like her. He looked different in his black and red ceremonial judicial robes. More severe.

  “How do you plead?” Tyrson asked.

  “Not guilty Sirrah” Amelia replied with a modest bow. “I do not know what would even be the cause of these allegations.”

  “The defendant speaks out of turn.” A deep voice from the right pulpit surprised her. That would be Zwern the senior drill instructor, he always did seem to have a sword stuck up his ass. Amelia wouldn't be surprised if he had found a way to spar with it.

  “It's fine, this is a less formal arraignment. Besides, she has the right to hear why she is being accused.” A more nasally voice to the left replied. Was that Jerrick, her old history teacher defending her? Now she felt twice as bad for sleeping in his class.

  Tyrson frowned.

  “Very well. As you know the death of her Grace has left deep wounds on the city. May she rest in peace.”

  “May she rest in peace” the others, including the guards intoned in unison. Amelia echoed it, no use getting in worse trouble.

  “There was a small figure at the scene of her death wanted for questioning and for causing a riot. A person that, by your report, you aided just this past week without detaining.”

  Amelia thought back. “The strange urchin from the sewer?”

  “Exactly” Tyrson replied. “Normally we can shrug off such matters with the privileges afforded the church, but in this. . .” Tyson trailed off, and adjusted the papers in front of him.

  “It will take some justification to prevent you from being hanged.”

  “What? Hanged? Why? That's not a church punishment.” Amelia sputtered.

  Tyrson held up his hand. Jerrick, and even Zwern frowned uncomfortably, there must be more being left unsaid.

  “We have a deal for you. The city may be able to overlook this transgression if you provide a service. Do you wish to have a trial, or are you willing to take up a holy mission?”

  To Amelia, the answer was obvious. She knelt by the altar.

  “How would the goddess Allumbra have me serve?”

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