Acropolis

Epilogue

The town exacerbated into waspy whispers and snippets of worrisome gossip. Ever since the newcomer came to town, rumors had been high-flying about the boy whose father had taken ownership of the college, challenging their loyalty to Janus—the quiet and sometimes reticent foreigner Conrad, who was just as immune to rumors as he was poison. Judge Pierce knocked her gavel, this time in fatal exhaustion.

"I don't pretend to understand or have Domain understand what you are relaying, but this has changed the course of the court if you tell me what is true—that Conrad has returned...then I'll have the Droughts return for a verdict. This has been about the battle all along. All along this has been about the deed to the town. How this worries me. I'll have as you wish, Daphne, but you haven't been clear."

Acacia leaned in her seat. She almost sided with Danika now but the verdict now strayed toward Daphne's sentence and Acacia's sentence. She did not anticipate sentencing, even on the Drought's, but the links chinked together. Acacia never wanted to be High Warrior; her political leanings were anti-war but battle had been about her coronation as well as protecting all the unicorns, including the domesticated ones who joined Jason. She wanted Domain and Acropolis to reach a truce, but her coronation confirmed her dreams of uniting the two empires was the truce Daphne wanted always. Jason's absence from the will had been Daphne's deliberation although Daphne and Acacia had once had his confidence.

Danika continued, "...and the deed to the town, in truce, includes the deed to the Acropolis!"

"Wise deduction, Danika," Daphne beamed with childlike mischief.

"But Jason's interference proves a different case," Danika sighed almost nonchalantly. She then held her breath, "we shall see in due process after a due recess." With the knock of the gavel, Acacia suspected it would be the last time she would ever see Janus. His nightmares had transferred to her but she hoped the worst of his dreams didn't come back to him.

6:0o P.M.

Acacia's own nightmares were closer than realized. Jason and the Droughts awaited their sentence in the other room. Danika had reasoned with Firebird to allow them temporary passage into their world. The case changed quicker than it had in months. Jan's parents were seen as the perpetrators just as much as accomplices. Chiron and Circinus, who had been known as "subspecies" up to this point, were allowed to have the final floor.

"I tolerate justice over mercy, but only when it is due," Chiron declared. "Jason hasn't even shown that much to my kind, but I'll give him my justice. Exile is acceptable but my kind is still afraid of what he might do. However, if it hadn't been for Acacia venturing inside the dreamcatcher, we would not understand Jason's fears. Humans, Mr. and Mrs. Drought, you may or may not have led your son to this, but if you did, then you must know how to turn him around."

Jason's blackened and weary eyes looked sycophantically up at Chiron as if the pain of his past was not passed.

Daphne looked older again. Perhaps it was the Domain air or perhaps it was the pressure. Daphne had one last announcement but no one knew whether her visage meant to conceal something physical or reveal one of her metaphysical truths, "It would do well for Jason to have some time away. I've sent him in exile before, Judge, but under your nose and to my land. So, if this is not about election or mayoral seats as you say, exile Jason to whatever land lies beyond Acropolis we know nothing about! Under my law, exile him, but under your law, set him a fresh start."

A shiver wrenched up Acacia's spine at the sound of "fresh start." Jason could have still been originally part of the will, but he hadn't proven himself so Daphne accepted Conrad as a stand-in, perhaps forever.

Judge Danika answered with a polite and denotative nod, the most dramatic move gestured in months. The empire grew at its seams, like two trees growing too close together that wrap around each other like candied marshmallow ropes, crossing fingers, or a childhood promise.