The Distant Future, A Distant World
Strella felt the clumsy touch on her mind as soon as she entered the throne room.
The Lady Semutir had a Psionicist in her service. A lower leveled one judging by the failure to breach the walls around her mind. It would take a much stronger holder of that Class to trouble her.
Her gifts were hers by birth and blood. She would always be stronger, if not as versatile.
She casually scanned her eyes around the room. Opulence was on display in the fine tapestries on the walls, sculptures in the alcoves, precious metals in dozens of decorations. The gem-encrusted golden throne was the most offensive of it all. So much wealth in what was supposed to be a poor city.
The lady’s guards stood at the entrance and the door at the back. A giant of a man or woman, it was hard to tell because of the thick armor plate stood stood at the foot of the dais where the the lady lounged on her throne. Next to her was a plain-looking young man.
Strella halted near the giant in armor and removed her wide-brimmed hat. Hard eyes glared at her from behind the helmet’s thin slits.
“Who are you to demand an audience?” Lady Semutir’s voice was melodic.
There was an ageless quality to her beauty. Pale skin was a rarity in the nation. Her lustrous blue hair was more common.
She could’ve instantly resolved the reasons she had come to this distant city near the edge of the nation’s borders, but there was procedure to be followed. It wouldn’t do for her judgment to be questioned at a later date.
“And why do you not bow?”
“I am Justiciar Strella,” she inclined her a head a fraction. “We are not bound by etiquette when acting in the course of our role and I’m here to render justice.”
“Just Strella,” a bemused smirk crossed the lady’s full lips, “come from a low family, do you?”
“Irrelevant to my purpose.”
“Well, justiciar, I find myself baffled as to your presence. My city is well taken care of. The laws are obeyed as required.”
“My presence was requested—”
“Another kingdom meddles?”
Strella kept her eyes locked on the lady’s.
“The senate?”
Silence.
“It can’t be the 7th Army. They care only for the troubles along the frontier settlements. The Emperor? No, you are much too shabby to be her creature. One of the great companies? The guilds?”
Strella said nothing.
“Answer me!” Lady Semutir’s mask cracked into an ugly snarl.
“Justice… independent of all things. I serve no man or woman. Nor any other entity.”
“A freelancer?” Lady Semutir’s laughter was harsh, mocking. “You’ve wasted enough of my time.”
“Is this not the scheduled time for citizens to directly petition you with their concerns?” Strella looked around the throne room. “And yet, I see no one else. This is highly irregular. I’ve visited dukes and kings and not once have I ever seen an empty throne room.”
“My subjects simply don’t need to come to me with their grievances. I take care of them,” Lady Semutir scoffed. “Renovosk,” she gestured at the the young man next to her throne, “tell me what this woman is really here for, because I simply can’t fathom any reason for a justiciar to come to my city.”
The young man hesitated. “My apologies, but I can’t, milady. Her mind is shielded.”
Strella let a small smirk grace her lips as she gave the Psionicist a nod.
“Hmm, a Psionicist then, higher leveled than my own. As ruler of this city my thoughts are forbidden to you.” Lady Semutir looked wary now.
“Unless you are guilty of committing a crime,” Strella said.
She used her gift.
There was no flash of light, violent displacement of air or thunderous sound.
Strella simply opened the lady’s mind. She read thoughts and memories as if they were written in a book. Hundreds of pages in the span between seconds.
The rush washed over her like a swollen river over-topping a levy.
Her head spun, but she was used to the feeling.
Outwardly, she gave no signs.
Lady Semutir’s memories wrote her guilt plainly for Strella to see.
Now, she had to observe conventions and propriety.
It wouldn’t do for a justiciar’s judgment to be doubted.
“Will you accept my questions?”
“Trial you mean?” Lady Semutir sneered. She gave no indication that she had been aware of Strella’s actions. Not that she would’ve. Her Psionicist was too weak to detect the invasion.
“Yes.”
“Very well… but first I believe you are required to show proof of your role,” Lady Semutir held up a perfectly-manicured finger, “if you are a fraud, playing at games… I will have your head,” her voice was a sharp blade.
“Naturally.” Strella removed her gloves and held both palms out for everyone to view.
Gasps filled the throne room.
The lady shot annoyed glares at her guards.
On each palm was the tattoo of an eye. Eerily lifelike copies of Strella’s own dark brown eyes.
“Anyone can get—” Lady Semutir began.
The tattoos blinked.
They all saw it.
When Strella blinked her eyes the tattoos did the same.
“The marks of my role,” she said. “Is there still a question on my legitimacy?”
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Silence.
“Good,” she donned her gloves before pulling a thin, metal chain from her pocket. A clear, medium-sized gem shaped like a flat disk dangled from the end. “A Truth Gem. I am no Psionicist. I am a justiciar without a patron or a master.” It remained clear. “I accept bribes for favorable judgments. I like the decor of your throne room.” It shined with a white light.
Lady Semutir eyed the gem and Strella with venom.
You would… with what I read in your memories, Strella thought. “Is there any who would dispute this?” she said. “I only have a few question for you, Lady Semutir. Charges. You can deny them or you can accept them. The severity of my judgment depends on you.”
“You speak as if you’ve already determined my guilt.”
“I am a justiciar. The truth is all.” Strella held the gem up. “Lady Semutir, have you taken more taxes from the citizens of this city than required.”
The lady clenched her jaw. Her knuckles whitened around the arms of her throne, visible even with her pale skin.
“Failure to provide an answer will be considered an affirmative.”
“How dare you!” Lady Semutir thundered. “These people don’t deserve someone like me.”
The gem remained clear.
Strella raised a brow. “Truthfully told, however, the first charge against you is confirmed. Moving on to the second. Lady Semutir, have you taken boys and young men into your bed.”
The lady went deathly still.
“Yes. None were forced or otherwise enticed by anything other than my beauty and… skill.” Lady Semutir answered carefully. “There can be no crime in this.”
The Truth Gem was clear.
A triumphant smile appeared on the lady’s face.
“In the course of these dalliances, did you drain them of their youth, vitality… their very essences in order to replenish your own?”
The smile fell.
“Failure to answer… confirmed,” Strella said flatly.
The Truth Gem swayed slightly on the thin chain.
“Lastly, Lady Semutir… have you fallen to deviance?”
Armor rattled as men and women shifted, either nervously or in preparation.
Strella read their thoughts like a book. She was ready for anything they thought they could do to her.
“Have you been in secret possession of a monstrous Class for many years? Is that how you’ve maintained your beauty for so long? Not through Skill, spell and potion, but through Succubus Class Skills?”
Lady Semutir stood up from her throne.
Strella spoke before the lady could. “Household guards. Your oaths are void. Do not join your fates to a monster’s. This gem reveals the truth,” she thrust the clear gem high for everyone to see.
“She lies!” Lady Semutir screeched.
The gem shined bright white.
Strella took several steps back, away from the mountain of armor. “Leave and turn yourselves in to the city watch. I will guarantee a fair investigation.”
All of the guards threw down their spears and ran out of the throne room.
Strella was left alone with the lady and two others. She tucked the gem away and slowly drew her long rapier. Its thin blade was four feet long, more than the standard thanks to the superior quality of Threnium metal in all aspects when compared to steel.
“Psionicist Renovosk. You knew the nature of what you served. I judge you guilty.” She drew a second family heirloom.
It was a strange weapon, if somewhat familiar, almost like a normal metal shooter. Except this one had a single rifled barrel with a fat cylinder for the six cartridges. Strella could squeeze the trigger six times before reloading, unlike others that needed to be reloaded after every shot, even if one had the more expensive type with more than one barrel.
The wooden grip was warm in her hand. It pulsed with life from the heart wood. Attack and protection in one weapon. So long as she held it evil would find it difficult to harm her.
“Psyche Shredder!” Renovosk pointed at Strella.
She felt the attack bounce off the walls she always kept around her mind.
“No, you can’t be—” Renovosk’s mouth dropped. “Legends, not real. You’re—”
The crack of thunder echoed through the throne room.
Lady Semutir screamed.
Renovosk’s head snapped back with a spray of blood as the metal ball flew through his forehead.
Justice imparted.
Strella spared no further thought for the young man.
“You will Love me,” Lady Semutir said.
The heart wood grip pulsed with warmth, almost hot.
Strella felt the compulsion roam through her body like a caress. She felt revulsion since she had several sources of protection and she knew the truth of it. The lady’s victims had none of that. “I am no naive young man or innocent boy to be victimized by your dark, deviant tastes.”
She pointed her rapier at the heavily armored person. The steel was dark, thick and spiky. There wasn’t a lot of openings. “Juggernaut… you didn’t know the full truth of what you served. Leave and you may find lenience.”
Metal creaked.
Baleful eyes glared down at Strella.
As gauntleted fists closed, wicked-looking spikes slid into place over the knuckles.
Strella read the actions to come as the… woman… made her decision.
“Unstoppable Charge,” the woman grunted.
Strella was several steps ahead. She pivoted and spun to the side a scant inches out of the Juggernaut’s path. Thunderous steps ended in a thunderous crash as the armored woman plowed into the stone wall.
Strella aimed and put a metal ball into the back of both knees. That would slow the Juggernaut enough for the city watch to deal with her when they arrived in a few minutes. Death wasn’t her only judgment.
She aimed her shooter at the lady.
“You’ve stolen wealth, but I don’t truly care about that. This is for the lives you’ve stolen. Ended before they had the chance to bloom.”
“Transformation: Succubus!” Lady Semutir shrieked as she ripped her fine dress off. Her body began to change. Limbs lengthened, fingernails grew and sharpened. Fleshy wings sprouted from her back. Her face remained beautiful despite the small horns sprouting from her forehead and the rows of sharp teeth in her too-wide mouth.
A horrifying sight by right, but magically alluring to most.
Strella wasn’t one of those. She was protected by the walls around her mind and the warmth in her hand. She emptied her shooter.
Thunder made three roses bloom in the lady’s chest, right between her perfect breasts.
Strella knew that wouldn’t end it. She read the lady’s thoughts. Lust and hate mingled.
The lady meant to launch herself at Strella and savaged her with teeth and nails. Oh, but the Succubus wouldn’t end it there, not too quickly, she’d bring pleasure with the pain. Take both to heights so that she could drain Strella of everything. What where a few injuries when they’d be healed in that instant? As for the rest of it? Well, she’d blame it all on Strella. A rogue Justiciar overstepping her bounds. Who had set Strella on her trail? She’d find them. It’d be harder without Renovosk, but she’d find a replacement. For the right price, one would come to her. Even if she was stuck in a backwater city. One would come for the promise of coin, levels and extra… pleasures.
Strella raced up the dais and lunged, thrusting her blade into the lady’s forehead. The Threnium metal pierced through magically tough skin and bone into the brain.
Strella withdrew the blade and swept a red line across Lady Semutir’s neck.
A look of surpise flashed across the lady’s face before her head tumbled to the floor.
Strella moved a safe distance from the body. She emptied her shooter’s cylinder into a pouch at her belt. Casings were expensive and needed to be saved. She loaded six new cartridges into the cylinder and snapped it into place before tucking the weapon back into the holster hanging under her right armpit.
She made a note to prioritize finding someone to refill her empties with new powder and ball. A challenge, she suspected. She was far from her usual haunts and she had yet to ascertain the quality and reliability of the weaponsmiths in this region.
The city watch rushed into the throne room after a few minutes of waiting.
Strella had already removed her gloves and greeted them with four blinking eyes.
“Justiciar?” the lead Watchwoman frowned from behind a round shield. She glanced at the two dead bodies. “Lady Semutir and—”
Strella ignored the spears pointed in her direction. She knew that they would only attack if she did first. “Has faced judgment for her crimes. As has Psionicist Renovosk. As for the Juggernaut,” she gestured at the woman on the floor near the crater she had made in the stone wall, “secure her. The nature of her crimes don’t require my direct hand.”
“Explanations—” the Watchwoman began.
“I will speak with your captain and the city council… together. I will give my report once.” Strella strode forward. “I will wait at the council hall.”
The spears pointed at her swung upward as the city watch hastily made way.
The lead Watchwoman could only nod. “Secure Lady Sem— the throne room. No one in or out. Don’t touch anything.” She pointed at the fallen Juggernaut. “Get that armor off of her and take her in for questioning.”