AuthorPalt
patreon
Tutorial Rewrite 152
🕑 Added 2023-06-06 14:14:55 +0000 UTCI didn’t fight back. They put chains on me, around every limb I have, and then they dragged me down to the dungeons, to the black of the down there, and they chained me there.
Only when the gate to my cell closed and locked did I finally snap out of it.
…What is happening?
What happened to the plan?
Why would Simel…?
I glance outside the cell. There are five guards in my immediate vision. Going by smell, there are several dozen more, leading all the way up and back to the throne room. I look at the bars themselves, and then at the chains I’m wearing. It wouldn’t be impossible. Far from it. Almost easy. Simple. Q—
Wait!
I freeze up where I sit.
It was his voice. I know it was. I heard it loud and clear. He spoke. He can speak. Could he always speak? Why did he only do it just now? I don’t understand. I don’t understand anything anymore. I wish I could smell him so I’d know where he was, but the world is too cruel for that. Instead, all I can smell is the emperor, moving here and there with no real logic.
What should I do? Should I escape? Should I fight my way out? What else is there to do?
I shake my head.
…I can’t let myself fall into despair. The first mistake I could make right now would be to assume that the plan has ended. This is not the end of the road. It’s just a little bump, that’s all.
There has to be a reason for why Simel stopped me.
But why? Why would he possibly want me to not take the chance? It would have been so easy. Could it be that… that he had some other plan?
A shock of realisation zaps through me and the despair and uncertainty melt away in an instant.
That’s it! Oh, man, do I feel stupid!
“Hahahahahahahahah!” I laugh, because it was so simple all this time!
The reason he seemed so apprehensive while he was painting me wasn’t because he was stunned by how great of a plan I was brewing, but rather because he knew how off the mark I was. And, even more so, that he couldn’t tell me! Finally, it makes sense. He wanted to do his original plan for a reason, but he couldn’t tell me why, so he had to forcefully push me into getting captured, somehow. Heck, he might even have mentioned that in the message he sent to the emperor, which would also explain why he was so startled by my discovery.
Oh, what a goofy situation this has become!
Still, knowing Simel, I’m sure this will all work out in the end. I’ll be his blind and deaf sword, not knowing why or when to strike, but still doing it when the time is right. Of course, it would be nice to at least know a little about what the plan is. You know, just as a courtesy. I know people usually don’t talk to swords, but hearing what Simel is up to and what he’s thinking would be nice, I think.
The rest of the day passes. No message from Simel.
The next day arrives and passes. No message from Simel.
The next day arrives and passes. No message from—
The cell is unlocked. I barely even have time to look up before a mancatcher shoots out from the darkness, hooking around my neck. Now that I’m looking at it properly, the mancatcher in question is actually held by four rather burly goblins, and while I’m mentally considering whether I can take them all on or not, one of them shout-whispers to the others, “It may look like her highness, but that’s an illusion—stay strong, brothers!”
Oh, yeah, now that I think about it, I’m still in my disguise. Not that it seems to have been effective in the way I wanted it to be, though.
While I’m thinking, the goblins holding the mancatcher drag me to the feet by the loop while a number of other guards—each of them reeking of fear—rush inside the cell, undoing my chains and redoing new ones until I’m probably wearing more chains than clothes. Still, if I really tried, I think I could make it out of them. But that might hinder Simel’s plans, so I present myself as passive while they grab the chains and pull me out, giving me no room to walk on my own.
Is it a bad thing that it feels slightly nostalgic to get yanked around like this?
Nevertheless, they drag me out, all in a big rabble around me. I can’t tell exactly where we’re going, but considering how we seem to be getting closer to the emperor, I think I might just be getting myself a second chance at doing the right thing.
That said, wherever it is we’re going, there really are quite a lot of people, aren’t there? It’s choked with breathing and stuffy clothes and excitement and sweat.
Once we get there, I realise what this is at a moment’s glance.
It’s a courthouse. Inside the caste.
The whole thing is arranged almost like a church, with us entering through a large pair of doors to first bring us down a gallery of close to a hundred goblins, each dressed in fine robes of yellow and blue and orange. Are these the aristocracy? Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many judges in one place. The way they stare at me like I’m a barely chained tiger almost makes this whole thing worth it. Still, a few of them view me—or rather, what they think I am—with confused pity.
The guards parade me through the gallery and to the main courtroom. There’s a raised platform where two arch-judges and a sentencer sit at their bench, alongside… The emperor? Why’s he sitting with the arch-judges? Don’t tell me he’s part of the verdite. Oh, and then there’s also a woman on the other side of the judges, dressed no less extravagantly than the emperor and just as hard-faced. Going just by the way she looks, I doubt she’s the empress.
As my eyes fall on her she suddenly notices me and visibly twitches, face softening immensely before turning away fully, unable to look at me. That’s kind of weird if you ask me.
In the middle of the courtroom is a cage. The guards put me in the cage.
Hang on a second.
Why the heck am I in a cage?!
Hey, this is dehumanising! I demand a fair trial! But I can’t voice any of this before my eyes fall to one of the sides of the courtroom, where I see Simel sitting behind a desk, alongside a few other goblins I’ve never seen before. I almost want to smile and wave at him but that might ruin his plan, so I instead choose a more brutish expression of reluctant capture.
The cage clicks closed behind me and there’s a moment of silence as the guards retreat, only two remaining close enough to act should I suddenly try to do dumb things with a vengeance.
And for just a moment, all is silent in the courtroom.
…No, not quite. There’s a quiet, muffled sobbing, coming from the judges’ bench. Looking over, I see the woman in the crown cry just a little harder at seeing my face. Or, rather, the face I’m wearing.
One of the two arch judges glances at her before turning to one of the guards close to the cage. “Plaintiff, would you please remove…” He shakes his head. “Reveal the demon that hides in the flesh of her highness Swee-Swee.”
The guard looks over at his colleague before reluctantly moving closer. He doesn’t even seem like he knows where to start. Do I need to do everything? I bore my eyes into him. “My neck,” I say. “There’s a crease there.”
He gulps and clenches the halberd closer. Nevertheless, he reaches out, arm trembling. His hand touches my neck, and I can see in his eyes how he can’t align what he sees with what he feels. His fingers grope and eventually hook around a bit of open flesh and I feel him twitch. He grabs the skin between his fingers and pulls up, peeling the skin off my head, removing the whole thing like the mask of a Scooby-Doo villain. The crown that previously sat atop my head falls to the floor with a melodic clink and for just a second nobody speaks.
A scream pierces across the gallery, instantly followed by exclamations of fear and disbelief. The only person in the room with no strong reaction is Simel, sitting off to the side, who simply stares at me. I give him a look in all the hubbub that strangely enough makes him wince, and then I turn back to the guard in front of me, still holding the princess’ face. Ah, he’s all frozen.
“What’s wrong?” I tease. “I’m not that ugly without make-up, am I?”
And—get this—at that, he actually drops his halberd, falls on his ass, whimpers, and scrambles away! Wow. I guess a uniform doesn’t make a man, after all.
I turn to the arch-judges and smile. “So, is anyone going to get me out of the rest of this skin? It’s kind of really tight and the dress is… Well, honestly, the dress is pretty comfortable, but not while wearing a literal skinsuit, heh.” My joke did not impress them. Ouch. Guess I’ll just have to make do.
The same arch-judge stands up and bangs his gavel, bringing silence over the gathered judges. “Silence!” His hawk-like gaze slowly moves across the entire gallery before finally falling on yours truly. “Since the accused has now been revealed in its full, horrible glory,” he spits, “we shall now begin this session properly.”
His eyes burn into me, but I meet his gaze with even interest. Hey, it’s not every day you get to be at a real court session!
“You stand before this court accused of the murder of the former King of Acheron, Parrus the Blessed of Two, alongside the killing of the capital of Acheron, the killing of Princess Swee-Swee of Ret-inn and the killing of Prince Chepert of Split Horizon, alongside innumerable other offences to all hundred gods. How do you plead, human?”
I stare up at him. I glance at Simel. The urge is strong, but my friendship with Simel is stronger.
I open my mouth, and I speak.
“Guilty.”
