“Here we have an unfortunate victim of fate, but he did commit a crime. Murder is murder, no matter how you look at it. It’s not something to be taken lightly. No amount of money or work can measure up to pay for a life. Only Ryance’s own life can ever clear that debt,” said Larxer. Murder was very rare in Solumina; it was one of the few crimes that wouldn’t settle with a banishment, or jail time. However, never had murder been defined as an action where the killing was for the survival of one of the involved parties.

“I can’t argue with the fact that Ryance killed Gitaya, but when we kill animals for food, are we accused of murder? Or if one of us is killed by an animal, is the animal accused of murder? The answer is no. Ryance held off his hunger pains for months. I doubt any of you could last that long without food. We can’t treat him the same as a murderer who kills for spite, fun, greed, or revenge. As our esteemed leader said, ‘We have a unique case.’ You all know Ryance, if only by reputation, and so you should know that he would never meaningfully hurt any of you. We can’t just kill a dedicate citizen like that, especially since he was a victim to begin with,” replied Klarn.

“Klarn does have a point. It’s not really murder if you look at it from that perspective. However if we let Ryance live, more deaths will follow. Each and every one of you will have to constantly worry about being his next victim. He may be able to hold off for months at a time, but every time his hunger gets the better of him, someone will have to die. Your family members or friends may be found dead, all their blood drained from two holes in their necks, all to satisfy Ryance’s hunger. If my memory serves me correctly, vampires don’t die from age, cold, disease, or hunger. He will be a parasite to our people forever,” said Larxer. He knew his final argument would win the whole debate, sealing Ryance’s doom.

“Why don’t you let Ryance speak on his own behalf?” asked an older member of the council. No one had heard Ryance speak of the matter since he had killed Gitaya. No one knew how he felt, or if he even felt anything. Larxer frowned to himself. He knew that Ryance was an equally competent speaker, and he feared that he could say something to save himself. He didn’t want to let Ryance speak, but he could give the court no reason to refuse Ryance’s right to speak. Standing in the way of justice would damage his chances; he could only hope that Ryance’s guilt tripped him up.

All eyes turned to Ryance. He had been listening shamefully to every word being said. He could feel the malice and venom hidden in Larxer’s voice, but that was to be expected. He looked at the mother of Gitaya. She was glaring at Ryance, her face contorted in loathing. Tears were running down her red cheeks, but she made no attempt to wipe her eyes. She didn’t even pay attention to her younger daughter, who was crying beside her. Ryance saw this and knew his fate could only come to one conclusion. He wasn’t going to fight it. Oddly, it made him feel almost tranquil, if not for the bitter guilt lingering beneath the surface. Still, he stood up when Gesslent gestured for him to do so, and he spoke.

“As a knight I am bound to do what my superiors tell me. I agree: there is nothing I can do to mend the damage I have done, and no amount of time will be able to rehabilitate the curse I carry inside of me. Despite this corruptive drive, the curse was not merciful enough to steal from me my recollection. I know what I did, and it’s something I will have to live with forever if I am left alive. I have no desire to go on heaping this misery on anyone else. Look at Gitana’s mother: see the hate in her eyes and the coldness of her expression. I don’t want to turn any more loving parents or friends into cold, desolate, hating people. I will accept any sentence you give me that is agreed upon by the will of the court,” said Ryance, his tone dispassionate, though his eyes were dark with sorrow. His own testimony settled the matter far more than Larxer’s ill-meant arguments.

“Why don’t you ask Cesorpha?” said a voice from the back of the room. The words, quickly spoken, were not traced back to anyone, and no one came forward to claim responsibility for speaking them. It sounded like a ploy to stir up more trouble, but at the same time, perhaps it was a desperate attempt to salvage the case.

“How dare you drag her into this?” asked Klarn, his voice just barely below a shout. He had told Cesorpha to stay home, but she had refused to desert Ryance. Klarn could tell the trial was weighing heavily on her. “She has no testament to give for the crime we are persecuting. Ryance’s character has never been in question during this entire case, and that is the only thing she could attest to. There is no purpose in bringing her into this.”

“You are not being objective, Klarn. She is your sister, and it’s only to your credit that you wish to protect her, but the request is not unreasonable,” Larxer said smoothly, shaking his head. He turned his eyes towards Cesorpha, and several others looked her way as well. She was seated at the side of the room. Her face was red and tear streaked. She looked up, but she didn’t face the crowd.

“It’s not for me to decide. I still care for him; I haven’t changed my mind or my heart. But sometimes caring means letting someone go. Justice is too cold a concept right now; I find no comfort in it. I want what’s best for everyone, including Ryance. As he told us, he will go on living forever. A person of his character won’t be able to stand it for long. Maybe it truly will be best if he dies here among his friends, here and now, but I can’t stand the thought of killing him either,” said Cesorpha. Then, with one last look at Ryance, she ran crying from the room. Usually such a response would be frowned upon, but no one went after her. It didn’t even need to be discussed; no one was interested in leveling sanctions against her behavior.

“Is there anything else left to be said?” asked Gesslent.

“No,” said Klarn. He just wanted this entire ordeal to be over; he couldn’t run after his sister until matters were dismissed. They might forgive her for her outburst, but as a Council member his behavior was under stricter review.

“I’m finished,” said Larxer; he could already taste victory, but it would never do to let it show.

“Very well then. Jury, please make your decision. Keep in mind all sides of this case,” said Gesslent. The crowd watched as the jury left the room. The silence was smothering as the crowd waited for the jury to decide. The wait was long, but the jury finally emerged. All members had a somber look on their faces, and some glanced around nervously.

“Have you made your decision?” asked Gesslent.

“We have.”

“What is your determination?”

“It is our conclusion that Ryance, the defendant, is guilty of being a threat to our citizens, and all human life, so must be destroyed,” said the foreman. All eyes darted to Ryance. No change came over his schooled expression. Larxer tried to hide is disappointment at Ryance’s lack of reaction.

“I trust you have pondered hard on this, and if that is your decision, then it is final. Ryance’s execution will take place tomorrow after sundown. Take him away,” said Gesslent with a sigh he didn’t bother to hide. Two guards took Ryance out of the room. Klarn waited in the courtroom. Larxer passed by him, giving him a smug look of triumph. Everyone else went home. Once everyone had cleared out, Klarn went back to Ryance’s cell. He didn’t want to see a man doomed to death, but he wanted to desert his friend even less.

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“Why didn’t you say something in your defense?” asked Klarn.

“You know how much I loathe to say it, but, Lord Larxer was right: I can’t stay. Killing Gitaya hurt me more than I hurt her. She died quickly and was then free of suffering. But I still remained, and will only kill again. I should have left as soon as I delivered the news about Vynera, or at least stayed behind these bars,” said Ryance bitterly. It seemed that bitterness was growing on Ryance, becoming a part of him. He kept wavering between resignation and anger. At the moment, anger was stronger.

“I’m sorry it all had to end like this.” Klar’s words came out in a rush; he felt like no words could truly convey his sorrow. “I just hope that this isn’t the way everyone will remember you. You were very well respected and admired before everything fell apart, and I think a lot of people will realize it when they’ve had time to think.” Klarn shook his head. “Would you like me to stay with you for now?” It wouldn’t be easy, but he couldn’t leave behind his friend so abruptly.

“I appreciate it, but there’s no need. Once I’m dead, that will be it; I won’t be able to feel anything anymore. You still have yourself to look after, at least for Cesorpha’s sake.”

“Yes, of course.” Even with his execution the next evening, Ryance was looking out for the woman he loved, and Klarn could only respect that. “I wish I could say something to help, but words feel empty right now.” Klarn was feeling bitter now as well; it was too easy to fall into that slump.

“You did your best already, and that’s all I could have expected. Your efforts are beyond reproach.” As angry as he was, Ryance wasn’t going to direct it at one of the two people who stood by him, no matter what. “But, it’s best for you to leave me now. Take some time for yourself, or check on your sister.”

“Good bye, old friend,” said Klarn, slowly walking away from the prison, as if to give Ryance a last chance to ask him to stay. But the words never came. Unfortunately, Ryance’s night was not going to be a peaceful one. A few minutes after Klarn’s exit, Larxer came in. Smugness radiated off of him, and Ryance almost regretted having Klarn leave. However, he knew that if Larxer was determined to get his final shots in, there was little Ryance could do about it. There was no sense in having Klarn suffer any further on his account.

“Poor, poor Ryance. It pains me to see you locked away like a caged animal,” said Larxer, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Ryance stared at him with a deadpan expression.

“What do you want? You’ve already taken my life, what else do you want from me?” Even with his words being spoken carefully, he couldn’t conceal the rage in his voice.

“Temper, temper, Ryance.” Larxer wagged a chiding finger at Ryance, as though he was a child making a scene. “I just want to rub it in while I have the chance; everyone will be expecting me to be so solemn and serious at your execution.” He came closer to the bars, but no so close that Ryance could reach him; he knew Ryance had literally nothing to lose. “I’ve never liked you; I’m sure you know. You always stopped my plotting, but yet never told anyone. You couldn’t bear to have anyone on your precious Council get disgraced, could you? All that’s going to change; now my path to the top will be free. Oh, and by the way, I’ll take Cesorpha too.”

“If I wasn’t behind these bars, you wouldn’t be saying such things. Your tongue wouldn’t be moving so freely.” Ryance didn’t fear for Cesorpha; she was too sensible to fall into such a trap. However, the other words did bother Ryance. Yet, he was the one in disgrace right now, not the sly Larxer. And, he hated that his pride in his home had blinded him to the full truth of Larxer’s nature.

“I see even becoming a monster hasn’t destroyed your outdated sensibilities. It’s almost a pity to kill them. After all, they were what kept me in power for so long,” said Larxer. Then he walked off laughing. Once he was alone, Ryance slumped against the bars. Larxer’s visit left a foul taste in his mouth. But there was no help for it. Ryance paced in frustration until he was too tired, and then he curled up in a corner and fell asleep.

The next evening Ryance was taken from his cell to the place of his execution. It was a broad field, somewhat overgrown because it was rarely used. Most of the city’s women stayed home, and some of the men too. Usually the people of the Solumina liked to see justice carried out, but this was different. Very few of the citizens really wanted to see Ryance killed. Cesorpha wasn’t there though, having been persuaded by Klarn to stay behind. She had wanted to be with him until the end, but Klarn was firm, telling her that it wouldn’t help either one of them. Ryance’s face was so still it frightened people; he looked as though he was already dead. Stiffly, he was led to a flat stone surface, lifted up, and laid across it. The executioner was about to strap him down, but Klarn put a restraining hand across his arm.

“Leave the straps. Let the man die with some small dignity left. You can trust him not to move,” said Klarn. The executioner looked to the head of the Council for permission; Gesslent nodded in agreement to Klarn’s statement. The executioner let the straps drop.

“Do you have any last words?” asked the executioner gruffly.

“There’s nothing left for me to say,” said Ryance shortly, his face showing nothing. He closed his eyes, less for his own sake, than for the man standing over him. He had no way to know who was behind the mask, whether it was someone who had meant him ill, or who had sympathized with him. It could have been any number of people, and he chose to spare them the damage of having him stare them down during his last moments.

The executioner was handed a stake. Just when he was about to strike the fatal blow, there was a loud boom that cracked across the sky. Lightning shot down from the sky, nearly hitting the executioner, who had reflexively jumped away in surprise. Glancing up, the crowd saw a black and silver chariot in the sky, occupied by a single person: a woman in a white dress with blond hair. The chariot was being pulled by a pair of vicious looking creatures that were distinctly unnatural. Everyone was stunned at this, gawking at the strange sight, forgetting about Ryance for the moment.

“I’ve come to collect him,” the woman said, pointing a long, slender, pale finger at Ryance. With this gesture, Ryance began to float off the table and towards the chariot. He was dropped in the back of it. This left little doubt in the minds of the citizens who the mystery woman was: it could only be Vynera.

“Witch! You will pay for what you’ve done to Ryance,” shouted Klarn, drawing his sword and shaking it at the sorceress.

“Very well; I always pay my debts,” said Vynera with an ominous laugh. “Will you accept change?” She muttered a few strange words, holding her hands outward in a giving gesture. Suddenly the sky was filled with raining gold coins. The people ran for cover, and a few were hurt from the weight and speed of the coins. “I trust that payment was sufficient,” were her parting words as she flew off.

Once she was far enough away, she stopped her team of abominations mid-air. “You fool! You could have easily gotten away from them. Even weakened, you’re by far stronger than any of them,” said Vynera. Ryance answered her with a glare. “What took you so long in feeding? I didn’t think you’d be able to hold out for so long,” continued Vynera, her voice indicating that she was impressed, if only grudgingly.

“I’m stronger than you think, but you drove me to it,” said Ryance, trying to attack Vynera. Seeing what Ryance was attempting, Vynera pulled a silver warding seal from the front of her dress. Ryance backed away as far as the chariot would let him. He kept his eye on object, transfixed by its presence.

“Stop thinking you can kill me, especially not here and now. Did you think I would come unprepared? Do you think I would let you near me when you’ve made your feelings so clear? I fully admit, it was me who drove you to feed. You were holding out so well, I saw my plan failing, so I acted. Besides, once you committed the crime, I knew they’d have to get rid of you. Then I could get you back, and if they did decide to come after you then, it wouldn’t be to save you,” said Vynera, turning from Ryance to steer her chariot. She let the symbol hang down her back where Ryance could see it. Ryance stayed back, never taking his eyes off Vynera. The rest of the ride was spent in silence. Ryance had no desire to talk to Vynera any more than he had to, and Vynera ignored Ryance.