There were five grown men in the room, and no one spoke a word, each lost in his own thoughts. Theo sat in a chair just outside, reading a book. Navir gave him specific instructions not to come into the room unless he felt any buildup of corrupted pain. Navir himself was looking through notes, tapping a finger against the table.
Martin didn’t know what anyone else was thinking. Personally, he hadn’t seen Indenuel since he tried to murder him. Since then, his life had changed. He did everything in his power to put up a façade that things were fine. So far, only Sara knew he lost his powers. There were only so many things he could keep a secret from his own wife.
They were in the conference room in the Cathedral, a room out of the way, but the floors were covered in solid marble with thick windows. It was able to contain someone who had the corrupted tree talking or weather control. Or both.
They were sitting at the long table, Dalius pulling out the book of notes while Cristoval was in his wheelchair next to Dalius. Cristoval was silent, staring at something out the window. Martin tapped his fingers together, trying to remain steady and calm. Rumors were again circulating about Indenuel not leaving with Captain Luiz. The energy of the city was changing. Once it was bright and hopeful. Now there was a trickle of fear that could turn dangerous if they weren’t careful. Martin did not know what to do with those rumors, but a lot of things hinged on this trial, and he hoped Indenuel would end up confessing and the mark would come off. Even with the prospect of losing the war, he needed to make sure the boy’s soul was alright.
A guard opened the door. “Indenuel is here for his trial. Are you ready for him?”
“Bring him in,” Navir said.
Martin kept himself busy while Tolomon and another guard carried Indenuel to the marble. Tolomon eased him closer to the High Elders as the other guard left the room. Indenuel’s arms were chained behind him, and he also had the special mask for corrupted speakers of the dead. Tolomon motioned him to kneel. Indenuel did so, glaring at the floor, before Tolomon moved to the wall, folding his arms and doing his duty to pretend he wasn’t there.
“Before his mask is removed, let us begin with a prayer,” Navir said.
Indenuel snorted behind the mask. Navir gave him the barest of glances before he raised his hands.
“May God look down on Indenuel in love. May his tongue be loosed to give confession that is pleasing to Thee. May God grant us High Elders the spirit of mercy and forgiveness as we work closer to bring his soul back to Thee.”
“God be with us,” everyone said. Everyone but Indenuel, who still had the mask on. Judging by how dirty his glare was, Martin had a feeling Indenuel wouldn’t have said anything.
“You may remove the mask, Tolomon, but leave the other chains on,” Navir said, straightening some papers on the table as Dalius dipped his quill in ink. Tolomon walked forward, pulling the key out of his pocket. “Let me explain how this will go,” Navir said. Indenuel directed his glare at him instead of the floor. “All four of us will keep a probe on you to contain the corruption you feel. This room is specifically designed to house a corrupted individual. We are here to help you work through your confession. The longer it stays on you, the harder it is to get off, so I strongly suggest you do what you can to get it off today.”
Tolomon finished unlocking the mask before easing the metal plate out of Indenuel’s mouth. Indenuel licked the corners of his lips, still glaring at Navir. Martin forced himself to look down at the table. The boy’s hatred was clear, and he still couldn’t help but feel responsible for some of it.
“Tell us, in your own words, what happened with the Kiamese soldiers,” Navir said.
Indenuel smirked. Martin winced. “They kidnapped Inessa. No one was listening to me, so I took care of it.”
“By using corruptive powers?” Navir asked.
“Yes. By using corruptive powers,” Indenuel said.
“All four of them?”
Indenuel’s smirk grew, and Martin’s heart pounded in his chest. “Yes, all four. I had to wipe them out before they could run.”
A chill traveled down Martin’s spine. This wasn’t a confession. This was bragging. He glanced at Dalius, who had his left hand up while he wrote with his right. He was pushing whatever demons away that no one else could see.
“Do you have any remorse for what you’ve done?” Navir asked after a pause. He must have sensed it to.
Indenuel stared at Navir, who stared right back. “They drugged her. Beat her. Threatened to rape her. They deserved to die. Every single one.”
Navir’s eye’s narrowed before he glanced over at Dalius, who finished writing and nodded. Navir sat up straighter in his seat. “Let us hear from your own words about what happened with High Elder Martin.”
Indenuel stared at Navir as though he was the only one in the room, then turned toward Martin. He hoped the boy could sense the concern in his eyes. Indenuel dropped his gaze to the floor again, his chest rising and falling faster. “I was angry. Garen had-” Navir made a hissing noise, and Indenuel looked confused, until the confusion gave way to annoyance. “The devil told me exactly where to find the proof of my parentage, and how every single one of you have been lying to me from the beginning. Martin was the first one to show up, and I took my anger out on him.”
“To clarify for the record, you were so angry you used corruption. To try and murder him?” Navir asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you feel remorse for these crimes?” Navir asked.
“Of the Kiamese soldiers? Or of Martin?” Indenuel asked.
“Of both,” Navir asked.
“I do not feel remorse about killing the Kiamese soldiers,” Indenuel said.
Navir raised an eyebrow. “And of Martin.”
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Again, Indenuel hesitated, meeting Martin’s gaze however briefly before looking back at Navir. “I don’t know.”
“You… don’t know?” Navir asked.
Indenuel gave the smallest shrug. “You’re the ones who are supposed to help me with my confession, are you not? I simply don’t know.”
“You used corruptive pain on High Elder Martin. If you used it on any of us, we would have died. It is through a miracle Martin is still standing,” Navir said.
“I used pain because I knew Martin could stop it,” Indenuel said. The tips of Martin’s fingers turned icy. He may have been able to stop it before, but he couldn’t any longer. “I was hurt and angry, and I couldn’t hold in the pain anymore.” Martin watched as Indenuel’s eyes were getting red. “I knew it could have killed him, but if I didn’t get it out, it could have killed me.”
“And if you were wrong in your assumptions? If Martin was not sitting here right now, would you feel remorse for killing him?” Navir asked.
The first of the tears fell. “Yes. Yes, I would.” The tears continued to fall, and he looked annoyed he couldn’t wipe them away. His gaze turned to Martin. “And I hate that I feel this way. You lied to me. All of you did. Not just to me, but to everyone, and you used devilish means to cover it up. I feel remorse, yes, but I don’t think I should. You all have so much still to answer for.”
Navir took this all in, waiting for Dalius to finish writing. “We created the project with the idea that the person responsible would be the one to tell you. As Cristoval is no longer fit to serve as High Elder, that responsibility fell on Dalius’ shoulders, both as his successor and family member.”
Indenuel turned his glare toward Dalius, who finished writing the notes, the only sound being the scratching of the quill before he met Indenuel’s gaze as he dipped the pen in the ink again. “I was going to tell you eventually.”
Indenuel’s glare darkened. “You should have told me from the start. The moment you met me.”
“We needed to make sure the prophecy would be fulfilled. As it never mentioned when you would discover who your father is, I assumed it would be after you fought the final battle, especially as it was becoming clearer you would complete it before the year anniversary of your mother’s death.”
Martin watched, concerned as Indenuel’s eyes darkened considerably. Navir raised a hand to the corrupted power building inside him. “Indenuel,” Navir said in warning.
“I was starting to warm up to the idea of having an Oraminian father. I was excited to discover an entire culture. Now I’m faced with the idea that my mother was raped by a High Elder because she was desperate.”
“It is not rape,” Dalius said, writing swiftly with his quill. “Lucia agreed to the terms, and therefore consent was given.”
“Quit making excuses. Quit pretending my mother wasn’t a victim in all this. Stop pretending Cristoval did nothing wrong!”
The door opened and Theo walked in, looking nervous, holding his hand out toward Indenuel. It was a reminder to Martin of how little he was aware of his powers now. He couldn’t even sense a buildup anymore.
“You will calm yourself at once,” Navir said.
Indenuel’s glare bounced from Dalius to Navir. “I will. I’m simply asking my half-nephew to show my mother some respect.”
Dalius made a noise in the back of his throat, almost like a gasp. Fadrique covered up his laugh with a cough before taking a sip of wine. Dalius glared at Fadrique before engrossing himself in the book, catching up on notes. Indenuel smirked, hiding it with a bow of his head. Theo dropped his hand, bowing before he left again.
“As you have given a…” Navir tried to think of the right word before shaking his head. “A confession of sorts, Dalius shall see if he can clear your mark.”
Tolomon walked forward, helping Indenuel to his feet. Dalius quickly finished writing before getting up, a soft glare on his face as he walked over to Indenuel. He untied the front of his shirt before revealing the mark. Martin winced again, looking away. It was dangerously dark. Dalius touched each of the separate marks before closing his eyes and pulling an invisible force. Indenuel winced, closing his eyes himself. Dalius kept pulling the corruption out of Indenuel before he opened his eyes. The mark was still red, but a brighter red.
“That is all that will come out for now. He still feels no remorse for killing the Kiamese soldiers, and that is keeping much of it in him,” Dalius said.
“Understood,” Navir said.
Tolomon walked forward again, helping Indenuel get the shirt back on and tying it. Martin couldn’t be sure, but he swore Tolomon wiped the fallen tears left on Indenuel’s cheeks before ushering him back to his knees and returning to his post.
“You must attend Sabbath worship for the next year in order to make sure your soul can return to God. And since you have admitted that Martin was your intended victim, he may have a choice to add a punishment.” Navir turned to Martin.
Martin shook his head. “I shall request he does everything in his power to get the mark off. Once it is off, I request he dedicate every Sabbath day to service to the city and is not allowed into the Sabbath social for another year while he finishes his confession.”
Navir nodded. “Do you agree to this punishment?”
Indenuel raised an eyebrow. “Not attend the Sabbath social for a year?”
“And instead give service,” Navir finished.
Martin hoped Indenuel understood the meaning. Whatever service in the city meant he could still visit the Oraminians and help them.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, that sounds great,” Indenuel said.
“Light, isn’t it?” Fadrique asked.
Martin said nothing, taking a sip of his own wine. He couldn’t give Indenuel a harsh punishment. Not for something like this.
“So, are we done?” Indenuel asked.
“No.” Navir steepled his fingers, leaning back in his chair. “You admitted to not feeling any remorse for killing the Kiamese soldiers. That alone is the reason you are marked now. We must help you through your confession.” Indenuel shook his head, looking annoyed.
“What are you going to do? Beat me into feeling bad about it?” Indenuel asked.
Navir sighed, placing his elbows on the table, watching Indenuel closely. There was a silence for a time, as Navir was choosing his next move carefully. “The entire city was counting on you to save them. All of Santollia needed you, and you threw it away.”
Indenuel gave a small shake of his head. “Alright. Emotional manipulation it is, then.”
Navir’s eyes stayed focused. “You went after Inessa after we specifically told you not to.”
“I was not going to leave Inessa’s safety in your hands,” Indenuel said.
“Sacrifices must be made in war,” Navir said.
“I never asked to be the warrior,” Indenuel said.
“And yet you saved Inessa.”
Indenuel’s nostrils flared. “Because she didn’t deserve any of this.”
“Tell me, Indenuel. Was it worth throwing away all of Santollia for the life of one concubine?”
Indenuel’s face never wavered. He met Navir’s glare, and as calmly as ever, said, “Yes.”
Martin winced, then rubbed his forehead. Navir kept his gaze and Martin watched the cold emotion take over the Acting Senior High Elder. They were talking about death and destruction as though it was just a game, with Navir carefully moving pieces to figure out how to best win this argument.
“Are you really so blind?” Navir asked, almost whispering. “You threw away Santollia for her. She is still in Santollia. Kiam will break through our defenses. Good men will die. Captain Luiz. Nathaniel. Tolomon.” Indenuel blinked, his glare softening. “Kiam will head straight here. Inessa could still die. She could still be raped by those soulless Kiam monsters. Enslaved. I know from this trial you think little of me, but what of those little children you think so highly of.” Indenuel winced, then looked down, almost embarrassed at the show of emotion. “So, I will ask again, was it worth it? To save Inessa’s life this once to only push all of Santollia into the fire?”
Indenuel’s chest started heaving, his eyes bouncing around the marble square, a distinct frown on his face. Martin waited for him to say something, but he said nothing. Martin didn’t even notice Dalius finished writing notes until the scratching of the quill was gone, and the silence pressed on them.
“Do you feel remorse for slaughtering a hundred and fifty Kiamese soldiers now?” Navir asked.
Indenuel again studied the floor before meeting Navir’s gaze. “If I had slaughtered three hundred and fifty more, the prophecy would have already been fulfilled by now.”
Martin closed his eyes, covering his face. “Indenuel, please-”
Indenuel ignored him, keeping his eyes on Navir. “Just turn the other way and let me go win the war to fulfill the prophecy. Once I’m done, then I’ll work to get this mark off my chest.”