“I would step forward, Blesser, but I’m currently held in chains,” Krish said with a hint of a snicker.

The Blesser cleared her throat and said, “Release the bonds to his legs, but his legs alone.”

The invisible bonds were removed and Krish took a step forward. Three Reds tightened their grips on claymore, axe, and halberd and leveled the weapons at the accused as they stepped forward with him.

The Blesser closed her eyes and conferred silently with the Sept. “Krish of the Red Prophets,” she said, “on the charge of Propheticide, the Sept finds you not guilty.”

The snort from the Gold Chair showed nothing but disgust.

Krish made no show of emotion.

“We will now discuss the rest of the charges. Krish, you stand accused of involuntary draining, on more accounts than ever before noted. White Chair, what does Prophet Law say on the subject?” the Blesser asked.

“Prophet Law is very clear that any involuntary draining is subject to review by the Red Chair,” the White Chair explained. “If the cause is found just, it goes to the Sept for approval. If either the Red Chair or the Sept finds the accused guilty of an unjustified involuntary draining, the accused is stripped of weapon and title, with further punishment being given pending the seriousness of the crime.”

“It doesn’t get more serious than this,” the Gold Chair said.

“Red Chair, do you find the accused’s actions just?” the Blesser asked.

The Red Chair was silent as he pressed a hand over his lips. “The Gold Chair is correct,” he said. “This crime is serious. Krish drained dozens of all the colors. He did this so he could save thousands of lives. He did this so he could make a new planet habitable. He did this so he could usurp the authority of the Sept and do what he thought was truly right. There are many things wrong with this. It is evil and just all in one.” The Red Chair leaned forward and spoke to Krish. “I find it despicable. But the message behind it is honorable.”

The Red Chair leaned back and said, “I find it just.”

The gallery exploded in fury as Prophets of all colors called damnation upon Krish and the Red Chair. The Blesser had to strike her mace on the podium a dozen times before an uneasy silence fell on the chamber. “Silence! Quiet, all of you!” the Blesser shouted. “The Red’s decision cannot stand! It must go for the approval of the Sept first!”

“You snake!” the Gold Blesser bit.

“Quiet. Red Chair, you may argue your point on why these actions are just, and this man worthy of keeping his weapon and title.”

“What he did helped more than hurt,” the Red Chair said. “His actions were in keeping with the highest order of Red philosophy. His actions must be punished, but punished by the Sept. Many Reds have been praised by their fellows and condemned by the Sept. This is a grand tradition, in my thinking.”

“Grand? You call it grand to honor betrayal and rape!”

“Do you know the first Prophet to have their name etched in the Pillar of Fools?”

“What does that matter?”

“It was Templin of the Red. He assassinated a king on Triumph. His actions utterly changed the planet for the better. But it was a clear violation of both local and Prophet Law. As a result, he was sent back to Triumph and stripped of his title. The dead king’s authorities had him pulled apart by ropes tied to horses. The Red Chair at the time wept for the justice of his cause, and the justice of his sentence, a sentence imposed by the Sept. So he wrote his name on the pillar in our training chamber using the melted remains of his blessed dagger, so that all would remember Templin’s name.

“The Chair called him a fool for what he did. Now we call it the Pillar of Fools, so that all must decide for themselves whether their actions were evil or just. Now any Prophet who dies for a cause earns a place on the Pillar of Fools. We call it that, so that the root assumption is that the action was that of a fool. Because if the action was truly right, the results will speak for themselves and even the title of fool will be honorable.”

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“Too much honor for this man,” said the Blesser.

“No one man agrees on whom among those named on the pillar are honored or hated,” said the Red Chair. “But they are engraved side by side nonetheless. Let the Prophets as a whole decide which it is for this man. I will not allow mine to be the only voice.”

“Is your lobbying ended?” the Blesser asked.

“It is.”

“Then you will give us time to argue in dissent. Gold Chair?”

“Thank you, Blesser,” the Gold Chair began, “I—”

“You don’t need to argue, I’ve made my decision. And I know yours,” said the Red Chair.

“Oh?”

“You’re going to vote guilty, and so are the Whites.”

“That is true.”

“True,” the White Chair said.

“Then how do you vote?” the Gold Chair asked.

The Red Chair sighed as he said, “May all those who see your name on the Pillar of Fools judge your actions for themselves, Krish of the Red. I vote you guilty.”

“I endorse this verdict,” the Blesser said, with an unsaid threat to the gallery to remain quiet. “Krish of the Red Prophets, you are stripped of weapon and title. Krish Michalin of the planet Prosper, the law gives us authority to delve out further punishment based on the seriousness of your crime.”

“The law also says you must bring me to face those I damaged,” Krish replied.

“Yes, but Soul’s legal institutions are no more.”

“Spirit’s are.”

“Excuse me?”

“Spirit has a legal system, a hierarchy, even a currency. It is your duty to send me there for sentencing.”

“To the planet you founded?”

“Yes. I founded it. I gave them hope.”

“You played the role of a deity!” the Gold Chair charged. “You coddled them and forced them to act in accordance with your will. It goes against the first and most important of Prophet Laws!”

“But it is not a law people are executed over.”

“Not in the past.”

“Not ever. I am the first citizen of Spirit. I discovered it. I named it. I revoked my citizenship of Prosper the moment I found this from my observatory. I came here as a citizen of that planet, since I’d rebelled against my original planet.”

“How did he get into the Red?” the Gold Chair asked.

“It didn’t disqualify him,” the Red Chair replied with a shrug.

“It should have!”

“I am a citizen of Spirit. And as such, should be returned there, to face the judgment of the local authorities.”

“No one knows where this unnamed planet is, Krish Michalin,” the Blesser said, making note of the word unnamed. “Any White returning you will not be able to do so.”

“Yes. I will have to drain them of the power and shift myself.”

“Can’t we use the Pure Crown to locate this planet?” the White Chair asked.

“I set up a barrier with the power of one hundred Prophets. Even the Pure Crown couldn’t detect the presence of these souls.”

“That is debatable.”

“And irrelevant,” the Blesser said. “You are no longer a Prophet.”

“But you’re legally bound to return me to my planet to face the judgment of my fellow citizens of Spirit. And the only way to get me there is to allow me to drain a White.” Krish’s grin was slight enough to be invisible to those who couldn’t feel his satisfaction.

“I will not allow a rapist to go free!” the Gold Chair bellowed. “You will not be allowed to return!”

“The law is final, Gold Chair.”

“Red Chair, say something! Can you sit there and condemn the man yet let him walk free?”

The Red Chair licked his lips in contemplation.

“You need a White?” the Blesser asked.

“Yes,” Krish replied.

“Very well.”

“What!” the Gold Chair shouted, and stood in his seat. “You can’t let him do this! You can’t—”

“I will abide by the law of the Prophets. And you will be silent, all of you!”

The gallery couldn’t, wouldn’t stay quiet. Their low roar of voices echoed throughout the chamber as the Blesser stepped down from her podium, glowing mace in hand.

“My weapon?” Krish Michalin asked.

“You are a citizen of Spirit, Krish Michalin?” the Blesser asked.

“Yes.”

The Blesser nodded. Then she swung her mace into the side of Krish Michalin’s skull, shattering bone and teeth. Gray matter and blood sprayed over the floor of the Sept Chambers as the dead citizen of Spirit fell to the cold floor.

The gallery fell silent.

“I have committed a murder and am subject to the laws of the planet of this citizen’s origin. I hold myself to their condemnation,” the Blesser said. “Does the Sept approve of this sentence?”

“Yes!” the Gold Chair exclaimed.

“Blesser, why?” the White Chair asked.

“The question of why is irrelevant. Examine the legal code,” the Blesser replied. “And tell me if this is a proper sentence for a murderer.”

The White Chair blinked, then nodded. “Yes.”

“And you, Red Chair?”

The Red Chair grimaced. “What you did is near Propheticide, Blesser,” he said.

“I murdered a citizen of the planet Spirit, not a Prophet.”

“So you did. Then yes, hold yourself to this judgment. In one thousand years, when we somehow finally find where this planet is located, we’ll send them your long-dead corpse for sentencing. And maybe then even your name can be put on the Pillar of Fools.”

“And till then, I am both legally and morally obliged to continue my duties as Blesser,” the Blesser said, and wiped clean her bloodied mace.

“You do understand the implications of your actions, every one of them?” The Red Chair’s grin was slight.

“I do.” The Blesser’s smile shown on her resolute face. “Take this man’s body away. Melt down his hatchet and write his name on the Pillar of Fools.”