“You assaulted a fellow citizen after they refused to sell you something?” I ask, looking down upon the woman who now bows before my throne. I’ve personally witnessed the crime, my attention caught by the shouting argument that preceded it, and unfortunately, the messy nature of the incident has brought it straight to my throne room.
While I’m not fond of the systems put into place in the Unified States, it is generally true that ‘beastly’ behaviours such as yelling and shouting will precede violence so I’m constantly on the lookout for such.
“I needed to save-!” I hold up my hand and cut her off.
“I’ll hear out what you have to say in a moment, but first I want to hear the facts from you,” I say. “Is what I said true?”
“It is,” the woman, a plant species, bows and forces the admittance out.
“And you, merchant, you refused to sell to this person resulting in an argument that led to this violence?” I ask the other person involved, a young merchant of a leather-skinned race. His large eyes look up at me with confidence.
“I did not refuse to sell,” he explains. “She could not pay the price that I’m asking.”
“What is the item that’s being traded?” I ask. I already know most of the details, but this process is still necessary. I need to walk through the steps to let people know exactly what’s happened and the reason why I’ve come to my decision.
“My children!”
“Garden plants,” the merchant says, letting out a weary sigh.
“May we see them?” I ask, waving towards our staff who bring them in. A trolley rolls in through the doors, covered in various small plants, small cacti mostly.
They aren’t crying or screaming, there’s only a very faint sense of intelligence to them, no more than most plants have. Yet, unlike the seedlings of Earth, these are more like a foetus. A lifeform without active intelligence, but with the potential to become the best of us. How many rights does such a being deserve?
The ‘mother’ stares at her ‘children’, her bulbous eyes shining bright. It’s clear that she really cares for the young plants, and the merchant seems rather awkward watching it unfold. Either he’s a talented actor, or he never wanted to be put in this situation, holding children hostage.
“These plants are yet to develop into intelligent beings?” I ask to confirm, and both nod. “They don’t yet have [pet rights], and certainly not [full citizen rights], what about [child rights]?”
In order to determine exactly what rights each living being deserves within my empire, we’ve developed separate categories. [Pet rights] are for tamed animals that aren’t yet capable of self-regulation and require someone to take responsibility for them until they grow more intelligent, whereupon they can apply for [Full citizen rights].
[Child rights] are something in between, there are no lesser limits for intelligence, and even these plants could gain such rights, but a parent needs to claim the rights on behalf of their children. Orphans must either be adopted, if they are of extremely low intelligence, or they may possibly apply for [Full citizen rights] if they are capable enough.
There are many plant species that use their own seeds to farm, and even some animals and insects that do the same, though it’s only allowed under certain limitations here in my own cavern.
I find that intelligence is an imperfect measure but there aren’t many other options. Adler is still working on the problem herself, trying to reduce the suffering we cause others.
“I purchased these plants from a farmer, and I’m not aware of any claim of [child rights].” The merchant explains, keeping it simple.
“I… I sold my seeds,” the mother explains, staring down at the ground in shame. I’m vaguely aware of some subcultural values that she’s betraying with such an admission, but I’m not biased either way. She can sell her seed, or even her body, so long as it’s all consensual.
“The farmer raised them, and then when you saw the plants in the market you wanted them back?” I ask.
“They’re beautiful,” she says. “I don’t want them to be abused by someone else. I don’t want them to suffer because of my choices…”
“You can’t afford to purchase them?” I ask.
She shakes her head.
“I’m willing to offer a discount, but I can’t afford to sell at less than cost,” the merchant says, bowing his head to me.
“Neither should you have to,” I reply, merchants are an important part of my empire. “From what I’ve seen, you have made no mistake and were misfortunate in buying a… difficult product.
“You, the mother. You have made a mistake, at your own admission, yes?” I ask. “You regret having sold your seed after seeing what that entails?”
“I… I did… I’m sorry. I don’t… please don’t take them away from me,” she begs, her body losing its complex shape as she falls into something more akin to an overgrown garden.
“The rules as they are do not allow for you to claim [child rights] in an instance like this when the lesser beings are the property of another.” I say firmly, “This should be a lesson to everyone, that you should be mindful of what you are willing to sell so that you don’t come to regret it later.
“That said, I’m not heartless,” I pause. “How much were you expecting to sell the product for? Please be honest.”
“106 shards in total,” the merchant says. “I have it marked slightly higher for the sake of haggling.”
“Thank you for your honesty, and how much do you have?” I ask the mother.
“I don’t have any shards,” she says. “I have things I can trade, but I’m not… I don’t like holding onto shards.”
“Do you have paying work?” She nods. “Can you acquire the money, given time?”
She nods quickly, or more accurately, she sways in an affirmative manner.
“Then we will loan the necessary funds for the purchase,” I say, looking towards Nel for confirmation. It seems as though we’ll be setting up our first banking institution, which isn’t a bad thing.
“These plants will be considered collateral if you do not pay back the borrowed funds,” I explain, letting the mother express her joy for a moment before I return to our topic.
If it comes down to it, I’ll have them added to the gardens in my tower, so long as they’re cared for I don’t have to feel bad about it.
“With the inciting incident dealt with, now we have to address the assault itself,” I say. “While I appreciate the circumstances involved, the truth is that you assaulted a merchant because of your own mistake. I value individual freedom, but that is not acceptable behaviour.”
The mother calms back down again, but it’s clear that she’s still quite positive about what’s occurred thus far.
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Reformative justice is ideal but achieving it properly will be challenging. Just because she recognises that she’s at fault does not mean that she won’t do so again, especially if she sees more of her ‘children’ at the market.
This sort of situation is only going to grow in complexity as I introduce a population limit. Already people are breeding like rabbits because I’m allowing them the freedom to do so.
Prison is an ineffective punishment, costing us a lot of resources and giving us nothing in return, while violent beatings and ‘the stick’ could, in theory, be reasonably effective at times, there are usually better options.
“Your punishment will be 300 hours of public service,” I say. “This is work that you will not receive payment for and hopefully it will give you perspective. It will be scheduled around your work, but please take it seriously.”
In this public service, she’ll be assisting some of the more difficult students in our empire. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the victim of assault herself, and hopefully, in seeing their behaviour she’ll recognise the error in her ways. Her ‘children’ were saved, not because of violence, but through trade and my own intervention.
I must live in the wilds where power and violence supersede all rules, our home here is different. I will not permit violence as an answer within my own home, it’s the reason I’ve fought so hard to gain this territory in the first place.
With my decision made, money is handed out, and the plants receive their [child rights]. We’re still sorting out a system with our support devices where these rights are obvious at a glance so that no one can mistake a garden for a kindergarten but it’s not active yet.
When the show is done and the cameras are off, I can finally let out my pent-up frustration. I turn to Nel and Adler and skip away from the heavy throne.
I don’t need to be an Empress all of the time.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“I don’t know how you deal with it,” Eshya says, her dancing steps moving around me as we spar on the fields under the branches of the great world tree. This is one of our last lessons for combat class, and soon we’ll be saying goodbye to this academy.
We care little for the eyes watching us, we’re here for only a little longer and Adler’s existence continues to guard us to a certain extent.
“It’s difficult,” I admit, “but it’s much better to face these challenges myself than to powerlessly watch a corrupted system hurt innocent people.”
“Not all systems are corrupt,” Adler says from the sideline.
“I suppose welfare officers are particularly difficult to corrupt,” I admit. For all the faults I see in the system, I have to admit that by breaking the minds of the welfare officers they cannot easily become corrupted officials. Sedena and Gale are rare exceptions to this, and both are at least somewhat insane.
Eshya’s sword cuts through my side, but I tighten the mana density around it to limit my wounds as I impale myself on it. I pull Eshya into a close grapple, and rather than retreating as she should, she tries to retrieve her weapon and is thus too slow to respond to me.
When she does try to retreat, I push her back into my arms with a blast of force magic. I twist her arms around and hold her down, summoning my claws from the air around us and holding them down on her neck.
“I lose,” Eshya says with a sigh, standing up and retrieving her sword from my gut. “It’s not fair, you have too much power and too many tricks.”
“You still win two out of three rounds,” I say stretching out my limbs as my wound closes over.
“Only because you keep making mistakes and you’re holding back,” Eshya says. “You’re going to pass me by in no time, and I’m not sure that I can keep up.”
“You can,” I say confidently. “Or if you can’t, I’ll still love you.”
“I’m not going to be some housewife,” Eshya says, growling to herself as she readies her stance and breathes slowly and calmly. “I’m not suitable for anything but this, it’s my talent after all.”
We step into another fight, dodging wind blades that Vii rains down upon us. One movement flows into another, and each of my steps is boosted by force pushes. I try to keep up with Eshya, but she’s constantly a step ahead of me.
Her legs slide over the earth, and even at my best pace she manages to be faster than me, placing herself right in my path. Her sword slices through my thigh, a favourite target of hers.
I try to grapple her, but she’s already sliding away from me. I could use spells to corral her into my reach or to cut her down clean, but that’s off the table for this game.
It’s already clear that I’m the more powerful if we were to fight to the death, which will never happen, this is just training for instances where I can’t win with the abilities that I already have.
That said, Eshya’s not going down easy, and if she catches up in mana density, then she’d be much more difficult to catch. For another few minutes, she carves into me, both of us getting torn up by the invisible blades of wind that Vii sends to us.
Finally, as I’m trying to squeeze in close to her, she pulls her sword back and angles it around with unnatural swiftness, her sword getting buried in my neck.
“Your win,” I wheeze out, my flesh rebinding itself as her sword is pulled out of me.
“Are you okay?” Eshya asks, “You look like you’re barely holding your head on.”
“It’s fine,” I say, waving off her concerns while holding my head still with the other hand. Moving my head around is… uncomfortable, and the flesh is knotted and inflated as the muscles are bound together to keep me from falling apart.
“It’s the end of class anyway,” Adler says, coming closer and looking over my wound. “I’ll try healing you if that’s alright?”
“You can use healing magic now?” I ask.
She smirks confidently, swirling together a flow of magic that invades my flesh and makes right what’s been split. It leaves behind a pleasant warmth as her fingers drift over my skin.
“Thanks,” I say, looking all directions just to make sure I’m alright. I’m not certain at this point if I’d die immediately from losing my head, but it wouldn’t be comfortable, that’s for sure.
Our peers are looking toward us worriedly, their expressions complicated as they let their own weapons and training slip. Most have grown silent and reticent since their friends were taken by the welfare officers, and they look upon us with vague horror and admiration both, knowing that we’re different.
Our confidence almost seems beastly to them, and the welfare officers observing us quietly only make us seem that much more terrifying.
“I… can I ask something?” The young girl approaching us wears a brave face as she tries to find the right words through her knotted tongue. Her eyes keep turning to the welfare officer observing us.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I… can I join you?” she asks. “You’re all so strong, and… you’re not afraid.”
Her eyes turn to the officer again, making it clear what she means.
“Sure,” I say, nodding confidently. “There are a few things that we’ll have to discuss, but I’m happy to bring you along for the ride.”
“Thank you, I’m Karin,” she whispers, shivering in relief. A few terrified chuckles escape her as she steps closer, keeping us between her and the welfare officer.
She’s familiar, one of Alo’s friends. The plant girl would probably be happy to see another of her friends.
“What about me?” A young man asks, stepping up to us. “I want to know what makes you so confident, I want to follow you if that’s acceptable.”
The damn wall breaks as the rest of the students either ask to join us, whether as a club, a faction, or just a group of friends, I’m not entirely sure and neither are they. Others, many others, turn away, terrified of even joining us for how beastly it might seem.
They are the most observant among us.
The watching welfare officer slides into our midst, a small silver blob floating on his hand. I tense up, warning the others, but Eshya is already aware, and a step faster than me.
Karin squeals as the welfare officer appears at her side, the collar extended towards her, but Eshya is faster still. She dives between them.
The welfare officer presses the collar onto her, but the silver just flows over her skin unable to attach. Eshya’s sword is raised, the blade cutting against the welfare officer’s neck.
“I slipped,” she says.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Stats and Skills
~Mana Form:
Current mana density: 57,713 / 60,892 units
Current mana volume: 28,690 / 30,271 shards
Mana volume at crystallisation density (Max. mana volume):
Kyra: 30,271 shards
Kyra’s armour: 20,777 shards
Kyra’s throne: 1,109,298 shards
~Forms
Mana Canon
-Annihilation Heart (Adapted)
-Blood Fuel (Adapted)
-Bone Magic Storage (Adapted)
-Nail Shifters (Adapted)
Dancer
-Flash Nerves (Adapted)
-Quick Perception Mind (Adapted)
-Burst Reflex Muscles (Adapted)
-Layered Space Muscles (Adapted)
Turtle
-Rebinding Tissue (Adapted)
-Catalyst Sweat Glands (Adapted)
-Repulsive Skin (Adapted)
-Prehensile hair (Adapted)
-Fatty Tissue Blood Storage (Adapted)
Investigator
-Wide eyes (Adapted)
-Wide ears (Adapted)
-Sharp nose (Adapted)
Misc.
-Clean bowels (Adapted)
-Mana Drive (Adapted)
~Favourited Skills:
Magic:
-Annihilation Magic (Customised)
-Fire Magic (Functional)
-Space magic (Broken)
-Force magic (Functional)
-Ice magic (Broken)
-Wind magic (Broken)
Movement:
-Hand-to-hand casting (Functional)
-Mana surge movement (Functional)
-Stealth (Functional)
Senses:
-Eyes of an Empire (Customised)
-Combat Awareness (Functional)
-Watchmen (Functional)
-Hidden bug (Mastered)
-De-tagging (Mastered)
-Anti-stealth sight (Mastered)
Special:
-Spirit Transformation (Broken)
-Conformity (Broken)
-Training mana form (Functional)